


Whatever the Reason You Do It For Me

by Magnetism_bind



Series: A Reasonable Price [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 80's AU, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Airplane Sex, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, BDSM, Beards (Facial Hair), Butt Plugs, Cage Fights, Car Sex, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Rings, Comeplay, Complicated Relationships, Courtship, Cunnilingus, Dating, Dildos, Dominatrix, Drinking, Drugs, Eventual Bucky/Steve, Eventual Loki/Steve, Everyone has a beard, F/M, Facials, Fast Cars, Flashbacks, Flirting, Forced Orgasm, Gags, Getting to Know Each Other, Grief/Mourning, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Handcuffs, It was the 80's, M/M, Masturbation, Mechanic!Bucky, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Obsession, Oral Sex, Outside Sex, Panic Attacks, Pegging, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Public Hand Jobs, Racecar!Driver!Thor, Reckless Driving, Rimming, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, So modern as far as the 80's go, Switching, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vietnam vet, Voyeurism, eventually Steve will be in this fic, fucked-up relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-23 21:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20346922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: Los Angeles 1986.Thor's a retired race car driver, trying to distract himself from thoughts of the past and the one man he can never forget - his adopted brother, Loki. One night he sees an attractive man in a cage-fight and a spark is struck.Bucky's not looking for a relationship, let alone one with a celebrity, but there's something about Thor that wins him over in spite of himself. In spite of the fact that he's only loved and lost one man in his life, his childhood best friend, Steve Rogers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This AU spawned out of a conversation with @ellel and it's thanks to her inspiration and motivation that it's made it this far. <333

_Los Angeles: May 1986_

Thor sips his drink and scans the room, looking above the noise and motion around him. Usually he’s more interested in fights, the barely contained violence is appealing, but lately his interest in everything has started to pale. It’s been like this more and more these days and Thor doesn’t know what to do about it.

Thor’s not the only celebrity there naturally. He spots a few actors and musicians, models pretending they don’t know anyone is watching them. He is one of the most famous though and, he likes to think, the most interesting. He’s used to the attention, doesn't mind it at all. He still thrives on it and, as Loki once said, both poetically and crudely, occasionally gets off on it.

As the announcer keeps droning on, he tries to shake off his boredom and focus. _Ennui_ as Loki always called it, mimicking a tutor they had one summer when their parents had taken them to France so Father could work on yet another book. Just thinking about it brings a smile to Thor’s lips, and just as quickly it fades.

Where is Loki these days? Thor hasn’t seen him in four, no, five years now. It’s the longest they’ve gone without speaking ever since Loki was first brought into the family household at the tender age of four. Thor was almost eight by then, charmed by the tiny younger boy, and instantly protective.

Thor sighs, running his thumb along the rim of his drink. It does no good to think of Loki. He knows this all too well by now. It’s an unbearable yet painful truth that if his brother wanted to see Thor, wanted to speak with him at all, he could easily do so. It’s Loki who’s chosen the distance between them this time, as he started to do as they grew into their teens, and afterwards. Although Thor has to admit he’s done his fair share in maintaining it as well.

He sighs again, and finishes his drink, already motioning to one of the waitresses moving through the crowd of spectators to bring him another. If he can’t think of pleasant things, then he might as well get drunk.

* * *

It’s three fights in. Thor is pleasantly intoxicated and well aware of at least ten women and men he could get into bed with no effort at all, when another bout begins. This time he sits up and starts to take notice. One of the fighters is new, or at least Thor has never seen him before. He would remember this man. He can already feel his cock stirring, just watching him move around the ring. The man’s not one of the showier fighters. No frills for him, he’s dressed only in a basic black t-shirt and gray shorts that showcase his slim build, but it’s a _good_ slim build with tight muscles. Beneath his left sleeve is the long swirling design of intricate tattoos that runs all the way down to his wrist.

At one point the fighter lifts the hem of his t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead and Thor gets a glimpse of sleek muscled skin. He’s mesmerized. The fighter has a ponytail as well, his brunette hair tightly drawn back, and Thor keeps getting distracted by it, thinking it would be a nuisance in a fight, but apparently not. The fighter, Thor can’t remember his name if the announcer said it, is _good_. Quick, nimble, fighting well even in a dirty fight. It’s a pleasure to watch somebody move like he does. He wins of course and Thor’s half hard by the mere sight of him, dancing round the ring. Then the fight’s done and the fighter disappears down into the underbelly of the club.

Thor slings back the last of his drink and finds a waiter to ask for a meeting with the fighter. The man goes off with the message and Thor sits back in his seat, aware of the growing interest in his cock, and how enjoyable it would be to fuck someone who could fight like that. Someone like that. That man in particular. Damnit, he really needs to find out his name. He shakes his head and wonders if he should order another drink.

The waiter comes back with the response that Barnes (his name is Barnes apparently) isn’t interested.

“Not interested?” Thor blinks. “Did you say who I was?” Surely the waiter told him who he was. Who would refuse a meeting with the Odinson? He hasn’t driven professionally in over six years, true, but he’s even more famous now, damnit. Nobody would turn down a chance like this. Nobody with a brain.

The waiter just shrugs helplessly.

At first Thor’s annoyed and then he starts to be amused. This man, Barnes, is to be a challenge then. Something he hasn’t in quite a while. That could be fun.

He asks only one more question of the man. “What room is he in?”

“Sir…you can’t.” The man swallows his objection as Thor hands him a discreetly folded bill. It’s more then the waiter would make in six months, and it will enable him to finally start saving to open his own florist shop.

“Room 3.” He jerks his head down the corridor.

“Thank you.” Thor reaches for one final drink from the man’s tray and downs it in one smooth swallow before making his way down below to find his prize.

* * *

Underneath the fighting ring, it smells like a gladiatorial pit, full of fresh and stale sweat and the stink of too many bodies close together, and beneath that the metallic tang of blood. Thor strolls down the hall, hands in his pockets to the room marked with a 3. He pauses a moment and then briefly knocks, before pushing it open.

“What now?”

A brunette head pokes out from underneath a towel. Barnes is even more attractive up close, with full red lips and cynical eyes. His hair from the ponytail, letting fall over his brow. He looks at Thor, no recognition, no interest whatsoever. “Already said I wasn’t interested.” He draws the towel back over his head.

“But you haven’t heard the proposition yet.” Thor walks in, closing the door. He waits.

Barnes straightens up, still keeping his head down. He rests his hands on either side of his thighs. He’s a good size. Thor bets he fucks well. He’d like to see the man’s dick, but for now he simply pictures it, thick and ready in his shorts.

When Thor doesn’t speak again, Barnes finally breaks the silence, pulling the towel back momentarily. He looks at Thor with bored eyes. “Let me guess. You want me to fight at a party, you want me to fight for a private audience, you want me to throw a particular fight, or you want to fuck me. So which is it?”

Thor smiles charmingly. “Which one are you not interested in?” Frankly, all of them sound appealing to him, except for the part about asking Barnes to throw a fight. He wonders if that happens a lot, and whether the fighter’s suffered any repercussions from refusing to do so.

“All of them.” Barnes puts the towel back over his face.

Thor just leans against the door and looks at him. The view Barnes is presenting is certainly appealing just as he is, and he’s definitely interested now. He wonders when was the last time Barnes had a truly satisfying fuck.

After a few more minutes have passed Barnes pulls the towel all the way off and drops it on the table. He blinks at the sight of Thor still standing there. “Still here.”

“I’m rather fond of challenges.” Thor’s still just looking at him. "You'll find I don't give up easily."

Barnes shrugs and hops down from the table. “Suit yourself. I’m going to shower and go.”

“Would you like some company?” Thor asks lazily.

Barnes turns and looks at him. For a moment Thor thinks he might say yes, just from the way his gaze slowly travels over Thor from head to toe. “Somehow I knew that was coming.” He just shakes his head. “No.”

“Another time then.” Thor calls after him.

Barnes give him a jaunty wave over his shoulder, without looking back.

Thor heads out to his car, still keeping an eye out for Barnes, his senses aware of him even now. Now he has something to distract him, for a little while. The night has ended on a good note at least.

* * *

The next day Thor gets Darcy, his personal assistant, to do research. “Find me everything on a fighter at the Brass Ring, a man named Barnes.” 

“That all you got?” Darcy raises an eyebrow. It's not the first time she's helped Thor in matters of the bedroom, but usually there's more information to go on.

“I didn’t get his first name.” Thor shrugs. “Come on, work your magic.”

The results are surprisingly disappointing. Barnes fights infrequently, has only been in the fighter ring roundup for less than a year. He doesn’t flaunt his victories, or accept invites to parties. 

"It's like he's a ghost." Darcy complains. "Sure you don't want to go with this guy? He fights all the time, and clearly available." She waves a picture of a blonde buff fighter, grinning blandly at the camera.

“Keep digging.” Thor tells Darcy. “There’s got to be more.”

“Any particular reason why I’m digging into this guy?” Darcy asks casually.

Thor just gives her a look and she goes, whistling innocently as she does. Thor sits back in his desk, tapping his pen against his lower lip. He doesn’t have to explain himself to Darcy. Besides, she can probably guess.

In the meantime he keeps busy with his usual routine. Swimming every morning. Working out in the evening. His calendar is still full with galas and parties, sporting events and photo shoots. Parties and drugs and models and fast cars, though not as fast as they used to be, not as fast as Thor likes them to be, but still enjoyable.

He’s certainly not at a loss for things or people to do.

* * *

Still in the end when he does find Barnes again, it’s purely by chance. Or as Thor likes to think of it, the luck of the gods.

His beloved little red Ferrari starts spluttering while he’s heading to a meeting and he pulls into the first garage he sees. It’s a small place, hardly the kind of garage Thor goes to, not anymore. There’s no one in sight, just one car parked in the corner of the lot out front. Thor hits the horn and gets out, checking his Rolex as he does. He still has time to get to his meeting if he drops the car off right now and gets a cab immediately. He looks around for a payphone and leans over the side of the car to to hit the horn again.

“Be with you in a sec.” Someone calls from the shop interior.

Thor straightens up. That voice sounds familiar. He looks up to see Barnes coming out of the shop, wiping his hands on a rag. Thor’s tongue goes dry. Barnes is dressed in scuffed boots, faded tight jeans, and a gray tank top. A gray tanktop that shows off the arm tattoo far more fully than the shirt he was wearing at the fight. On his right shoulder he has a second tattoo that was hidden by his shirt the night of the fight. It's a small red star with a blue circle in the center. Thor’s lost in admiration at the juxtaposition of his tattoos. The work on Barnes’s sleeve is intricate and detailed. At first glance he looks like he has an arm entirely composed of metal. By contrast the star is so small and subtle you could easily miss it.

“What seems to be the problem- oh, it’s you.” Barnes recognizes him. He doesn’t look too thrilled about it. “Look, if this is another ploy to get into my pants, can we end it here?”

“As much as I would enjoy getting into your pants, no, that’s not what this is. My engine started acting up.” Thor gestures to his car, like it’s not just sitting right there already.

Barnes is still just looking at him like he doesn’t believe a word coming out of Thor’s mouth. It’s a good point. Why should he believe Thor? Thor’s a complete stranger to him.

“I didn’t know you were here when I pulled in.” Thor tells him. “Honest.”

Barnes sighs, and then shrugs. “Pop the hood, let me see what you’ve got.”

Thor refrains from making the joke he wants to make. He’d gladly show Barnes everything he’s got, preferably all night long. But instead he pops the hood and looks around again for a phone before turning his attention back to Barnes, who’s bent over the engine.

“Looks like you have a fried spark plug.” Barnes squints up at him. “I could get it done in an hour or two, probably. If you wanna go somewhere for a latte.”

Thor props his sunglasses on the top of his head. “I can wait here.” He’s already plenty intrigued by Barnes, but the mechanic background, on top of his moonlighting as a fighter, well, _damn_.

“You can.” Barnes says finally. “If you want.”

“Yeah.” Thor shrugs. He still needs to find a pay phone to call his agent that he’ll be late.

“Keys?”

Thor tosses them to him, watches Barnes catch them easily. “Is there a phone I could use? I need to make a call.”

“Inside.”

He follows Barnes driving his car into the belly of the interior. After the bright sunlight, it takes a minute for his eyes to adjust. There’s another car under a drop cloth in the corner, and the walls are grungy, covered with ads for foreign travel. He wonders where Barnes would most like to go.

He’s still just standing there looking around when Barnes switches the car off and hops out.

Barnes gives Thor a look. “I meant in the office.” Barnes jerks his head. “There’re some magazines in there to read too if you get bored. A couple of them even have your face on them.”

“So you do know who I am.” Thor grins. He knew it.

“It’d be a little hard to work with cars and not know that.” Barnes says dismissively. He goes back under the hood.

Thor ducks into the office and calls his agent who doesn’t want to hear his excuses but Thor doesn’t care. The modeling company will settle for another meeting. They want him for the line and he knows it and they know he knows it. They can wait.

Today he’s got other things to do. He turns his attention back to the man bent over his car engine.

The view isn’t bad at all. Thor spends the next ten minutes watching Barnes’s ass move this way and that, as he works. Thor thinks about getting his hands down those pants, or even better getting the pants off completely.

“You still there?” Barnes says from under the hood.

“Mmmhm, yeah.”

“Then stop staring at my ass and hand me that pair of pliers over there, will you?”

Thor hides a grin, and grabs the tool, bringing it over to him. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Barnes takes it without looking up. He works a little longer and Thor daydreams about fucking him over the hood of his car. Barnes’s hips would fit so neatly right there, he can imagine the feel of the man’s ass under his palms as Thor gets him to spread his legs wide, letting him sink deeper inside him.

“Right.” Barnes finally straightens up. “Let’s try that.”

He slides into the driver’s side with ease that Thor admires.

“You drive, don’t you?” He can always tell.

“Little bit.” Barnes switches the car on. “Nothing like you.”

Thor shrugs modestly. Nobody drives like him. Not before him, not since. It’s an established fact.

The engine starts right up, smooth as butter No sputtering, no sparks, and for the first time, Barnes smiles. It takes Thor’s breath away. That clear, open expression alighting on his lips is wondrous. Barnes has a good mouth and Thor wants to see more of it.

“There you go.”

“Thank you very much.” Thor claps his hands together. “What do I owe you?”

“Let me ring it up.” Barnes goes into the office and Thor follows once again. He does spot a stack of magazines on a corner table as Barnes said. The top one is from a photo shoot he did several years ago, his hair shorter and practically golden white from the sun, shoulders buff, a red jacket slung casually over one of them, as he turns to grin winningly at the camera.

“You weren’t kidding.” He picks up the magazine. He remembers this shoot, unlike some of them. It had been a good day. He’d definitely fucked the redhead model on page 3 of the photo shoot.

“Yeah, those have been there a while.” Barnes says. “People like ‘em.”

“What’s not to like?” Thor says blithely. He tosses it back on the stack.

“I mean, you have to jerk off to something, right?”

Thor snorts. “I’m sure you can find better porn if you look at the nearest corner store.” He looks around the office, studies the messy desk and the bulletin board behind it, tacked full of notes and ads, and a sketch tucked in the corner of it. It’s a pencil sketch of Barnes. Thor wants to look more at that, so he takes a step closer to examine the sketch. It is indeed of Barnes, sitting under a tree somewhere, shirtless, younger, reading a paperback book. The paper is faded, the pencil scratches barely there. It’s been a while since the sketch was first done. There’s a photograph next to it, of Barnes younger, over a decade ago, Thor guesses. He has his arm slung around a slender blonde man, and the two of them are smiling into the camera, their eyes full of happiness and life.

When Thor looks up again Barnes is just looking at him impassively.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“So...” Thor waits expectantly.

Barnes looks blank.

“How much?” Thor asks again. Usually it’s not this hard to give people money. Barnes can certainly use it, judging from the look of the shop.

“Oh.” Barnes glances at the sheet. “Twenty bucks.”

“Really?” Thor says surprised. “But the labor costs...”

“Don’t worry about it.” Barnes says.

Thor pauses. “If you won’t let me pay me for your labor, perhaps you’d let me take you out for dinner.”

It’s Barnes’s turn to pause. “You don’t even know my name, hot stuff, why do you want to date me?” The emphasis he puts on _date_ shows what he thinks of that.

“Who said anything about dating?” Thor raises an eyebrow. Though now it’s been mentioned, he would very much like to date Barnes. “I want to take you out to dinner because I watched you fight and I find you interesting and, yes, very attractive.” He grins at Barnes. “And yes, I’d like to know your name as well. May I?”

Barnes just shakes his head. “Still not interested.”

“All right.” Thor gets out a twenty, sets it on the desk and puts away his wallet.

“Just like that?” Barnes squints at him. “What happened to ‘I like a challenge,’ guy?”

“I do.” Thor smiles at him. “But you don’t succeed by being a pushy asshole.”

To his surprise Bucky laughs at that. “Now I know some people who would definitely disagree with you on that.”

Thor shrugs. “Their decision.” He drops his sunglasses over his eyes and smiles. “Till next time, Mr. Barnes.”

Barnes just chuckles and shakes his head.

Thor’s already at his car when Barnes calls after him. “It’s Bucky, by the way.”

Thor swivels neatly on the heel of his boots to look back at him. “Bucky Barnes?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s even cuter than I hoped.”

To his astonishment, Bucky actually blushes. Thor just grins and jumps in his car. Now he has a name and he knows where Bucky (_Bucky_. Thor can practically taste him coming on his tongue already.) works when he's not fighting. He can definitely work with that.

* * *

Bucky watches Thor drive away in the flash red convertible and then sighs and slumps against a pile of tires. That’s the last thing he needs. Some rich asshole bored and looking for something to distract him. He hates how attractive Thor is, how much his skin yearns to find out how it would be like to be touched by those hands. He’s got plenty to deal with, he doesn’t need this too.

“You should have challenged him to a race.” Sam speaks up. He’d come in through the side door just as Bucky told Thor his name. He still had no idea why he’d done that. Surely not even having a first name to go on would have made the guy lose interest.

“Dream on.” Bucky snorts derisively. When Sam doesn’t immediately retort, he looks at him. “Are you high?”

“Not at the moment.” Sam shrugs. “What? It could be fun, imagine beating the Odinson?” Bucky had mentioned the famous racecar driver had come down to talk to him after his last fight. Sam thinks that shows real interest, unlike Bucky.

“Yeah, cause obviously he wouldn’t just leave me flat on my ass in the dirt.” Bucky knows exactly what Thor’s capable of, the talents he possesses, the skills he has behind the wheel of a car. Racing was the only thing Bucky was interested in after he got out of the army, after he was finally released from hospital. He followed racing and yeah, he admired the Odinson as much as anyone else. Doesn’t mean he wants to be the next notch on the guy’s bedpost.

“Sounds like that might be his thing. Hell, sounds like it might be _your_ thing too.” Sam points out with a grin. “Apart from the dirt part. Unless you’re into that. Are you into that?”

“Shut up.” Bucky’s not into being beaten in races, or left on his ass, or…Thor Odinson. He doesn’t want to think about how sexy Thor is in person. How his height alone does things to Bucky’s gut. And the way he smiles is fucking obscene. Bucky’s not looking for a relationship, let alone a one-night stand.

“He’s clearly interested in you.” Sam says from the other side of the garage.

“Then he’s a lot stupider than he looks.” Bucky shoots back. “And he’s fucking pretty, so that’s saying something.”

He tosses the pliers on the tool bench and heads into the office. The magazines mock him from the corner table. He’s the reason they’re still there. Sam would have tossed them years ago.

Bucky’s not lying when he had said people had to jerk off to something. He happens to be people. He’s jerked off in the bathroom back there, or even in the office itself, on a late night when he couldn’t stand it. And yeah, once or twice, he’d looked at those magazines, and imagined coming all over Thor Odinson’s pretty golden features.

Now that he’s met Thor though, the magazines seem to belong to another time, another man altogether. The guy on the cover with the glorious smile seems to be something out of a fairy tale. Whereas the man who walked into Bucky’s prep room last week, or his garage today, that man is entirely different. Still golden, still favored, yes, there’s no denying that. But it’s tempered somehow, as though Thor has walked through a burning flame and come through unscathed, at least on the surface.

Bucky shakes himself out of a reverie and heads back to work. The photo tacked to the corner of the bulletin board watches him go. He doesn’t try to guess what Thor made of it. It doesn’t really matter. The past is the past.

* * *

A few days later Sam’s in the office going over the books and watching tv out of the corner of his eye when the phone rings.

“Sam’s Garage.” He drawls, resisting the urge to smack the side of the television set that keeps freezing on him.

“Can I speak to Bucky please?”

“One sec.”

Sam hollers for him and holds the phone out to Bucky who grabs it impatiently.

“Yo.”

“Hello?”

Bucky squints at the phone. “Yeah?” He’s in the middle of working, miles away, and now he’s back here, dealing with this shit again.

“I was wondering if you happened to be free tonight and would like to go for dinner with me?”

Bucky just scowls into the receiver. “Look, I’ve got plans.”

“What plans?” Sam says in the background and Bucky shushes him immediately. 

“Perhaps another time then.”

“Perhaps.” Bucky says humorlessly. He hangs up.

“What was that about?”

“Just him again.”

“Him who?” Sam looks down at the book in front of him.

“Him. Thor. Odinson.” Bucky carefully doesn’t look at Sam.

Sam’s eyes nearly bug out as he looks up. “Are you shitting me? He called you up. What the fuck for?”

“Ask me out dinner apparently.” Bucky shrugs.

“Why don’t you want to go on a date with him?”

“Because…why is he asking me out?” Bucky demands. “Why doesn’t he just say that he wants a fuck and leave it at that?” He’d get that at least. This whole roundabout courtship thing, it definitely feels like one of those antiquated ideas Bucky’s read about, is just ridiculous. He doesn’t understand it in the slightest.

“Have you considered that he might really just want to take you out?”

“But why?”

Sam just sighs.

* * *

After work Bucky gets on his bike and rides home. Try as he might to think of other things, Thor keeps popping back up. Bucky doesn’t know what to make of Thor. If he didn’t know any better, he’d definitely call it a courtship. Thor letting him know he’s interested, making proposals and invitations, but not pushing it, letting Bucky set the pace.

Although to be honest, Bucky wouldn’t mind it if Thor pushed him up against a wall or something. Damnit, the driver still looks good, probably even better, than in his racing days. It’s probably just that Bucky digs the longer hair. These days Thor's hair is past his shoulders, long and glorious and golden as the sun. Something to hold on to and yank, in the right moment. Yeah, that’s probably it.

Bucky feeds his cat, Stevie, a small rusty-gold stray with one ear, and grabs a beer from his mostly empty fridge. He forgot to go grocery shopping. Again. He sits on his back porch for a while, drinking his beer slowly and then he goes to shower.

Thoughts of Thor resurface as he does. So Bucky closes his eyes and imagines what it would be like. His fist wraps naturally around his cock as he stands under the spray. Thor would be an easy fuck, Bucky imagines, fist pumping away, he’d barely have to move. His dick’s probably so huge it can fuck all by itself. And then Bucky groans silently into his shower as he imagines Thor pushing him to his knees and making Bucky take his dick deep inside his throat, fucking his mouth with it until Bucky’s dick is leaking all on its own, just from seeing how big it is.

And then just when Thor’s about to come down his throat, and Bucky’s gagging for it, Thor would pull out and reach for him, shoving him over the nearest surface and thrusting deep inside until Bucky screams and comes, Thor still pounding away inside of him.

Bucky gasps, opening his eyes as he comes, splattering all over the wall of his shower. He watches the spray wash away the evidence and shakes his head, sticking it directly under the water in an attempt to forget everything he just did.

* * *

“What do you do when you want to get to know someone?” Thor asks idly, watching the waves. This is his favorite time of day. The sun’s just edging slowly over the dark waves and the whole world feels fresh and new.

“I don’t.” Bruce says humorlessly. “If you’ll recall, I didn’t even want to get to know you.”

They’re stretched out on towels on the beach watching the sunrise together.

Thor grins at his friend’s tone. He’s known Bruce for two years now. It’s taken him time to learn all the nuances of Bruce’s various moods, and he’s come to appreciate them. They’d met when Thor had gone surfing one morning and Bruce had been going for a walk on the beach with his dog, and Thor had stopped to greet the animal.

“And look how that ended.” Thor tells him. “Look at the beautiful friendship we now have.”

Bruce just sighs. “What’re you up to?”

“I’ve got somebody I’m….interested in.” Thor tests the words out, seeing how they feel on his tongue. They feel all right so he lets them linger.

“Oh yeah?” Bruce glances at him. “Good for you.”

He means it, is the sad part. It’s the first time Thor’s used that phrase since Jane. And Bruce at least knows that he really cared about Jane, even if it never really worked out between them. Thor had hoped with the two of them being bisexual, it would even out somehow, but it wasn’t to be. He counts himself lucky that they’re still friends.

He sighs softly, letting his head fall back, staring off at the sky and the waves without really seeing them behind his sunglasses.

“Hey,” Bruce says earnestly. “I mean that.”

Thor smiles back. “I know.” He jumps up and reaches for his board. “I’m gonna catch that wave. See you.”

“See you.” Bruce calls after him as Thor heads for the water.

He paddles out to the crest of the wave and stands, waiting. As he catches the wave, Thor feels the sun blessing his shoulders. He holds his arms out and flies. For a brief while he doesn’t think about anything but the sun on his back and the swell of the ocean.

* * *

Bucky had hoped that he’d have gotten over jerking off about Thor before (if, he reminds himself, if) he saw him again, but the next time he walks out of the office to see Thor sliding out of his car, his dick does a little song and dance number in his pants.

“What’s your excuse this time?” Bucky folds his arms across his chest.

“General inspection.” Thor smiles at him from behind his sunglasses. He gestures towards his car. It’s a smooth little number, a sleek silver Porsche. Bucky gives it an admiring glance, just one, before he looks back at Thor.

“Don’t you have a regular garage to go to?” Surely Thor has a regular mechanic, who keeps all his beautiful, and expensive, cars in tip-top condition. 

“I do.” Thor tells him cheerfully. “But why would I bother going there where I have no interest in taking any of the people out, when I could come to you instead?”

He smiles winningly at Bucky and Bucky just sighs.

He starts a cursory going over of the car. It’s in fine condition. This whole thing is a fucking farce. But Bucky enjoys working on good cars, and so he takes his time going over this beaut. It’s not often he gets his hands on a Porsche.

Thor simply leans against the side of his car, just watching him. Bucky can feel his gaze as he works. It’s not irritating like most of the attention he gets from customers or people at the ring. For some reason he just doesn’t find Thor obnoxious, when he so easily could be. Thor _should_ be obnoxious. He has no right to be, well, _nice. _It doesn’t make any sense.

“You always stick around during car inspections?”

Thor just shrugs. “I like cars.”

There, that right there. That sort of comment should sound dumb, or pretentious, but instead it’s just a simple statement of fact. Thor’s hanging around because he likes cars and…

“And obviously I enjoy the company.”

Bucky grins under the hood in spite of himself. “If this is your idea of good company, I hate to see what you call an actual date.” Not that he has anything really to compare it to. Whenever he goes out, it’s to Revolver’s where he has a beer and then looks around. If someone catches his eye, he offers to buy them a drink and that’s that. It’s not romantic obviously, but he’s not been looking for romance.

“Why don’t you let me take you out and I’ll show you?”

Bucky straightens up and just looks at him. Thor grins lazily at him and there’s something about that grin that prompts Bucky to answer, when he knows he should keep his fucking mouth shut.

“I’ll do you one better.”

Thor raises his eyebrows challengingly, waiting.

“I’ll race you.” Bucky says. “Winner gets to decide.” He doesn’t know what he’s saying, where this is even coming from, but the words are there all the same.

“Where to go for dinner?”

It’s Bucky’s turn to grin. “Who gets to be on top.”

To his credit, Thor doesn’t flinch or object, or call it off. If anything, his smile widens. “You’re on.”

He holds out his hand and they shake. The weight of his hand is somehow comfortable in Bucky’s; it sends a tremor of pressure all the way up Bucky’s good arm, tingling, hopeful with elation and promise. Bucky just looks up at him, straight into Thor’s clear blue eyes and thinks, ‘to hell with the race, I could kiss him right now.”

Instead he pulls away and clears his throat. “Let’s race then.”

* * *

Thor drives his smooth little Porsche, which is in perfectly good condition of course. Bucky takes the cloth off his black Camaro, and drives it out in the sun.

Thor gives a smooth whistle, spreads his hand over the hood admiringly. “This is nice.” He looks at Bucky thoughtfully. “Yours?’

“Yeah.” Bucky shrugs it off, hiding his pleasure at Thor’s admiration.

They take the cars down to the river and line ‘em up. Bucky can feel the excitement building, tries to tamp it down, but it’s been too long since he’s done anything as exciting as this. The fights haven’t been doing it for him lately. But this, just the anticipation of this is enough to make him harden.

“To the end of the culvert and back.” Thor leans over the side of his car, grinning at Bucky. “Winner gets to stick his dick in.”

That should not make Bucky even harder, but by fuck, it does. He gives a steady nod in response, spreading his thighs underneath the steering wheel, trying to ease the ache in his dick.

Thor just grins, leaning back in his seat, fingers barely gracing the steering wheel. “Say when.”

Bucky licks his lips, counts inside his head, and then, “GO.”

The zoom of the wheels takes his breath away as both cars head off in a streak of lightning.

For a little while the world is only speed and bright sunshine, the thrill and the chase and the thrum of the engines. For a little while, for both of them, that’s enough.

* * *

Bucky slams on the brakes, gasping. His adrenaline is still racing a hundred miles an hour. It feels amazing; _he_ feels amazing. And when he looks over at Thor’s car, sees him climbing out of it, his dick swells even harder immediately. He doesn’t give a fuck that Thor won. It was a breathtaking sight to see. He’ll never give that up, no matter what happens.

Thor gets out of his car and comes over to him. He leans on the side of Bucky’s car, grinning down at Bucky. “You okay?”

“Just dandy.” Bucky nods at him and Thor leans to one side as he hops over the car door.

He still feels jittery, like he should run a mile or two before his heart finally slows back down to where it belongs. A slow, staid pace that Bucky knows how to cope with.

And then Thor simply reaches out a broad hand and Bucky freezes, as Thor tucks a strand of Bucky’s hair behind his ear. Bucky blushes at the gentleness of his touch and Thor just smiles at him.

“I’ll pick you up at 8.”

“What?” Bucky stares at him. “Why…?”

“I told you.” Thor says patiently. “I want to take you out to dinner.”

He leans in close, letting his words warm Bucky’s cheek, “And afterwards I desire to take you home with me and fuck you all night long.”

“Nnngh.” Bucky’s dick screams. “Do that part now.”

He swallows. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Thor grins, and then ever so casually looking down, his gaze lingers long enough on the bulge at the front of Bucky’s jeans, that Bucky gets even harder. His dick is practically fucking the seam of his pants, begging to get out and into Thor's hands.

“I can’t wait to taste you.” Thor murmurs. “Until tonight.”

“Yeah.” Bucky manages. “Tonight.”

* * *

Of course, he starts panicking as soon as Thor leaves. Thor’s _rich_. He goes _nice_ places. Bucky doesn’t own any clothes that are worthy of going out with Thor. Most of his clothes have grease stains on them. What the hell is he even thinking of?

He calls Sam. “What do I wear on a date with a guy who’s richer than Midas?”

“Something he can tear off easily?”

“Not helpful, Sam.” Bucky chews on the end of his pen. Okay, so he wants that, he can be a man and admit that now, he wants to get laid and he wants Thor to fuck him, but he doesn’t want to look desperate.

“Where’s he taking you?”

“No idea.”

“Barnes.”

“Look, I used your race idea.”

“You did! Aww.” Sam sounds absurdly pleased.

“Yeah, well.” Bucky shrugs, muttering. “It was a good idea, okay?”

“All my ideas are good.” Sam informs him. “Look, just wear something that makes your arms look good, and shows off your butt. You know he likes your butt.”

“Sam.”

* * *

In the end though that’s what Bucky does. He wears a tight black t-shirt, no rips, and jeans that hug his ass. He knows they do this because people that have told him so. He’s not going to fit in wherever Thor takes, so why even try? He’ll settle for making Thor hard. It's only fair.

Minutes before Thor’s supposed to arrive Bucky's tempted to call off the whole thing. Why on earth had he agreed to this? He's halfway through dialing Sam’s number to ask how to get out of it when he hears a car drive up to the garage.

He peeks his head out the window and nearly drops dead. How the fuck does Thor look so good? He's dressed casually, tight blue jeans and a good white shirt with a dark blue jacket that shows off his shoulders. He looks smooth and relaxed and hot as fuck. Bucky groans under his breath. He feels like the hotter Thor looks, the hornier he gets.

He watches Thor pause and glance down in his rear-view mirror, doing something with his hand, and then it clicks. He's checking his hair. For some reason this charms Bucky and makes him slightly more relaxed by the time Thor heads over to the front of the shop.

Bucky steps out, pulling the door shut behind him. "Hey."

"Hey." Thor approaches. "I was going to knock."

Bucky shrugs. "It's fine." He locks the door quickly and pockets the key before turning back to Thor. "Where to?"

"Please." Thor gestures to his car.

He opens the passenger side for Bucky who rolls his eyes as he gets in.

Thor gives him a sideways glance as he slides into the driver's side. "You look extremely good, by the way."

"As opposed to usually covered in oil and grime."

"Well I have very little objection to seeing you covered in oil." Thor pulls out of the garage lot and out onto the street, heading for the highway.

"Very little?"

"My only objection is that you would look even better in nothing at all."

Bucky just shakes his head, hiding a laugh.

* * *

They drive out of the city. It's not too hot, and the sun's going down. Bucky leans back and watches Thor drive. It's an experience, going on a date with a known professional racer. Thor drives well, obviously. He handles the car delicately and smoothly, there's a grace and a style to the way his hands rest on the steering wheel. It's effortless and Bucky's impressed in spite of himself.

Thor takes him to a little hole-in-the wall place down by the coast. It's casual, it smells like beer and the sea rolling in over the early summer breeze, and no one is dressed fancy. They order steak and Thor looks at the wine list before catching Bucky's eye, and reaching for the beer selection instead.

"Wine is fine." Bucky says, wanting to prove that he isn't just a mechanic. He likes wine okay; he just doesn’t drink it that often to have any kind of preference or opinion.

"No, it's..." Thor shrugs. "I knew somebody once who insisted on having wine with steak. He said beer was uncivilized." There's something about the tone in his voice, the faint melancholy tilt to his words that provoke a response out of Bucky before he knows what he’s saying.

"Sounds like a pretentious dick."

Thor laughs. "You're not wrong there." He selects a beer and gives the waiter the order.

For some reason Bucky asks, "So what happened to him?"

"Who?"

"The dick."

"Oh." For a moment Thor looks as though he's at a loss. "I don't know. We lost touch somehow."

Now Bucky feels like the dick. "That's rough." He hesitates and then the words slip out before he can stop them. "I know how that is."

"Do you..." Thor looks at him speculatively. "Who is it that you've lost?"

"My army buddy." Bucky says lightly. "Well, my best friend actually. We joined the army together, and then..." A barrage of images ricochet through him. _Steve smiling at him over his shoulder. Steve, shirtless, uniform pants hanging off his lean hips as he shaves in front of a tiny mirror slung up on the wall, Steve sweating beside him as they crawled through the mud, Steve wrapping his arms around him and holding him close, telling him it’s okay after Bucky had shot his first enemy soldier. Steve…_

"But he's alive?" Thor leans forward in his seat, looking at him intently like it truly matters.

'Yeah." Bucky shrugs. "He just...never contacted me after the war ended. And I was going through some stuff, and didn't feel like I could..." He stops himself. Why the fuck was he talking about this? "We don't have to talk about this." He doesn’t want to dig into why it fell apart. It just did and there’s nothing to be done about it, but it let go and move on. He wishes like hell that wasn’t how things were, but there’s nothing he can do about it now.

"But I want to. That is if you want to." Thor tells him. "I want to get to know you."

"Why?" Bucky asks him bluntly.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Thor looks perplexed. “You’re interesting and funny, and yes, very attractive, but you already know that. In a way, it’s strange, I feel as though I’ve met you someplace before.”

“Sounds like a line.” Bucky takes a sip of his beer and brushed a wave of hair back behind his ear.

“The mechanic!” Thor exclaims. Now he knows where he recognizes Bucky from, why the man seemed so familiar when he saw him in the ring. “In Monaco. That’s where I know you from. You were the one who had the fuel for my last leg of the race.”

Bucky blinks at him. “How the hell do you remember that?”

“Are you kidding?” Thor takes a sip of beer. “That was my first big win and that moment was critical. Of course, I remember you.” He pauses. “I meant to come back and thank you actually.”

Bucky shrugs. “You were celebrating.” He can only guess what that day was like for Thor. It was exciting enough for him, just working at the track and seeing the race. The few minutes Thor had been at his pit stop, hair mussed in the wind, oil smudged on his cheeks but nothing stopping his mile as he smiled at Bucky and zoomed off to victory.

“Yes.” Thor takes another drink. “I celebrated quite hard after that.”

“You won.” Bucky points out. “And then you just kept winning, so…” If he thinks about that, all those victories Thor’s won but particularly the triple crown, it’s astounding that he’s even sitting here with him. It doesn’t feel real.

Thor nods, taking another drink.

“Can I ask what made you stop?” Bucky asks. Thor’s only in his mid-thirties now, around the same age, hell, probably even the same age as Bucky, now that he thinks about it. He could still be driving.

“I thought I should get out while I was ahead.” Thor says after a moment. “I was at the top of my game, and everyone wanted me, for advertisements, modeling, interviews, the whole of it. So that’s what I did.” He pauses again. “At least that’s what I say in interviews.”

“Oh?” Bucky takes a sip of his own beer, waiting.

“I was in an accident.” Thor says slowly. “The car flipped on me.”

Bucky frowns. “I don’t remember hearing about that.”

“That’s because nobody did. I kept it private. It was a freak accident, I took a corner too fast and the car just rolled.” He stops, looking at the bottle in his hands. “By all rights, I should have been killed, but I walked away without a scratch.”

“And that was enough to make you stop?” Bucky asks, curious. It seems unlike Thor.

“It was enough to make me think about the other things in life, things I had yet to achieve, things I still wanted very badly. So yes, in a way, it was enough.”

“And did you get them? Those other things?” He had to have, right? Looking at Thor, he certainly doesn’t lack for anything he wants.

“Not yet.” Thor says finally. He smiles faintly at Bucky. “I feel like I’ve been talking about me for a very long time now.”

“To be fair, that’s because I keep asking you questions.” Bucky says. “But also, there’s not much to tell about me.’”

“I find that difficult to believe.”

‘It’s true all the same.” Bucky shrugs. “I barely finished high school, was all set to get a job in a chop shop back home, when I got drafted and that was that.”

“Where’s back home?”

“New York. Brooklyn.” Bucky takes a drink, wipes his mouth. “Anyway, off I went like a good little soldier, and after that…everything just…” he falls silent, not knowing where to go with this. He doesn’t talk about this, not these days. Sam already knows all of it. Nebula has a pretty good idea. And nobody else counts enough for him to tell him.

“That’s where your arm was injured.” Thor says quietly. Now that he’s seen the tattoos more closely, he can see the scars hidden underneath. The occasional stiff way Bucky holds himself.

“Yeah.” Bucky says. “I was captured in 72’, released after the war ended.” He takes another sip of beer, slips his hands underneath the table, presses his palms nervously against his thighs.

“That must have been an experience.” Thor says quietly.

‘It was hell.” Bucky admits. “But I got out, which is more than I can say for most of my platoon.”

“I’m glad.” Thor says and their eyes meet across the table. Bucky feels the familiar heat gathering in his groin. He remembers Thor’s words earlier, and he spreads his thighs a little, trying to ease the pressure.

“What made you stay in Europe?”

“I didn’t want to come back yet. I was in the hospital for so long before they could move me, and then I just stayed. A buddy of mine got me the job in Monaco and well, I like cars.”

Thor grins at Bucky referencing his earlier comment. “I can tell.”

“I was over there for about a year and then Sam wrote to me and said he was opening a shop and was I interested, and I thought, yeah. LA sounded nice, and it wasn’t Brooklyn, so yeah.”

“It was a good change after the war.” Thor agrees.

“You were in it too…” Bucky hazards a guess. If Thor's the same age, he musta been caught in the draft as well.

“Just a brief bit. Munitions driver.” Thor grins. “Surprise surprise.”

They both finish their beers and Bucky thinks, _this is it. This is where we either linger and talk more, or...maybe, just maybe, we cut to the chase._

“Would you like to come back to my place?” Thor asks simply.

Bucky takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, I would.”

Thor smiles and signals for the check.

* * *

The drive back is smooth under the city lights. Bucky watches Thor drive, easy and assured of himself.

He’s not surprised when they pull into the gates of one of the private lanes in the valley. The driveway is long and winding, and then finally they pull up in front of a large mansion built at an angle right on the jut of the cliff. There’s a curved balcony running all the way around the house. 

They get out and Thor leads the way up to the front door. “Welcome to my home.”

Bucky manages to keep all his holy shit comments inside, but it’s difficult. The inside of the mansion is modern, but well-designed. It’s comfortably furnished with a variety of sofas and chairs, and a wide shag rug in the middle of the large living room floor. To the left there’s a pool room, that Bucky glances at while he follows Thor to the kitchen. The kitchen also modern, with an island in the middle of the room with tall stools and art framing the walls. There’s an impressive pantry as well and Bucky wonders briefly if it’s sad that he’s impressed by a well-stocked pantry. But then Thor probably has people to go grocery shopping for him and never winds up at the store at 2 am, wandering the aisles and eventually buying cereal because it doesn't take an effort to cook.

Thor glances at him and Bucky panics. “Uh, bathroom?”

“Down the hall to your left.” Thor says. “I’ll fix us a drink.” He opens a cupboard and takes down two glasses.

The bathroom is large and cream-colored and clean, and Bucky stares at himself in the mirror trying to make sense of it all. It seems unreal that he is here in Thor Odinson’s house right now. That there is a very, _very_ good chance that they will have sex tonight. Bucky groan and tries to adjust his dick. It’s been a while. It doesn’t help that everything Thor does is just incredibly arousing. It’s fucking unfair.

He splashes some water on his face, dries his face on his sleeve because he doesn't want to mess up the impeccable towel arrangement, and goes back down the hall to the kitchen.

Thor hands him a whiskey on ice. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Bucky echoes. He takes a very small sip, aware of his heart beating loudly in his chest.

Thor sets his drink down. He moves in closer to Bucky and then simply leans down and kisses him.

Bucky’s eyes close and his knees nearly buckle. Holy fuck, he nearly comes from the feel of Thor’s tongue sliding across his, teasing him, urging him, making him want to open and _give_.

Next Thor places his hands on Bucky’s hips, just lifting him to sit on the island, moving to stand between his thighs. It just makes sense to wrap his legs around Thor’s waist so that’s what Bucky does. Thor grins against his mouth and just keeps kissing him. Bucky’s dick is throbbing in his jeans by now. He can feel the bulge of it, pressed up hotly against Thor’s groin. There’s a reciprocity there that makes Bucky hungry down to his gut.

“I’m going to take you up to my bed now.” Thor murmurs, placing a kiss on Bucky’s throat. “So we can do this properly.”

“I can walk.” Bucky points out, but Thor’s hands are already slipping under his butt and just lifting him. It would be rude to wiggle out of this, so Bucky stays put even if he feels a little ridiculous. It’s a huge turn on all the same, being carried and kissed by Thor all the way down the hall, and up the broad staircase. They continue on down another wide hall to the master bedroom.

From the moment he sees the bed waiting for him, Bucky just needs Thor inside him. It’s more than a kingsize, it’s fit for a god, and the sheets drawn over it are light blue, like the dawn.

Thor sets him down on the foot of the bed and drops another kiss on Bucky’s mouth before stepping back. Slowly, he starts undressing, right there in front of Bucky, who’s mesmerized by the sight. First Thor’s chest, and shoulders are freed from his shirt and then his pants are off, and Bucky can see for himself the bulge in his briefs.

Thor glances down and then smiles at Bucky. “That’s all for you.” He tugs the briefs down next and tosses them aside. Now he’s nude and all Bucky can do is lick his lips in wonder.

“Now you.” Thor crosses his arms across his chest, just standing there as Bucky reaches for his t-shirt. He kicks off his boots and socks. When he stands up to undo his jeans, Thor leans in to kiss the side of his neck. Bucky shivers as Thor’s lips trace along his shoulders and then lower along his back.

Bucky shimmies out of his jeans and underwear in one motion and looks up at Thor with a cockier expression than he feels. It’s always a test, letting people see his arm without any kind of protection.

Thor kisses that shoulder too. He brushes his hand down the length of Bucky’s tattooed arm and then takes his hand in his. He raises Bucky’s hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it gently.

Bucky just stares at him as Thor leans up to kiss him, and they tumble backwards onto the bed. It dips deliciously underneath Bucky as he lies there, the spread of the mattress soft and relaxing. Bucky gazes at the ceiling as he feels Thor’s lips traveling down his chest to his stomach, his hand splayed widely over Bucky’s stomach, just holding him there.

Thor nudges one of his knees up and then leans down, licking teasingly at Bucky’s balls. Bucky squirms and Thor just laughs, the warmth of his breath tickling Bucky’s dick. He raises an arm above his head, still staring at the ceiling as Thor licks around the head of his dick. Bucky exhales slowly, resisting the urge to grab Thor’s hair and urge him to stop teasing and suck him properly.

Thor kisses his thigh and reaches over him for the lube. He squirts some onto his fingers and ducks back down between Bucky’s legs. He sinks two fingers inside Bucky messy and deep, while he continues teasing Bucky’s cock with his tongue, never putting it entirely in his mouth, just teasing the tip. Bucky’s panting, unable to focus on anything but the incredible pleasure rising inside him. He arches his back, wordlessly begging for more and Thor sinks his fingers deeper, stroking until Bucky bites his lip, trying to hold back. The slow curling motions of Thor's fingers continue sending waves of heat rushing through Bucky until he can't stand it. He groans, hips trying to arch up from the bed. 

“Come for me.” Thor whispers, kissing the head of Bucky’s cock.

“You haven’t…” Bucky pants. “You’re not even inside me yet.” An admission that means more than he wants it to, but by now he’s aching for it. He wants Thor to fuck him, he wants to have Thor inside him.

“Come for me,” Thor murmurs, licking along his cock. “And I will.”

He swirls his fingers, teasing Bucky’s hole until it flutters and begs for more.

Bucky bites his lip harder, breath pushing out hard from his chest. “I want you to be inside me first.” There’s something insistent about the feeling and he doesn’t know why. He just doesn’t want to give in first, he wants to feel Thor. He needs it.

Thor draws back and gazes at him. Bucky holds his gaze, trying not to look away. He waits, heart hammering, for Thor’s questions or demanding to know why Bucky thinks he can push back on this, or anything, any at all.

Instead Thor simply nods, and leans down, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s stomach and then he reaches for Bucky’s thighs, lifting them as he reaches for a condom. Bucky watches him in disbelief as he rolls it on and positions himself. Thor thrusts in and Bucky breaks like a dam, shooting all over his chest at the very first slide of Thor’s dick inside him. He starts laughing helplessly as Thor laughs too, reaching for him, Bucky’s hands sliding down to grasp Thor’s ass, pulling him deeper into him. Thor keeps going until he comes as well, and he kisses Bucky as he does. Bucky’s never been kissed so sweetly in his life by someone with their dick in him, it’s ridiculous.

* * *

“Sorry I couldn’t, um.” Bucky scratches the back of his neck as he reaches for the whiskey Thor set by the side of the bed. “Hold out longer.”

“That’s all right.” Thor shrugs, reaching for his lighter as he puts a cigarette to his lips. “It was only the first time.”

“Only the first time.” Bucky repeats. “What’re you expecting tonight? A marathon?” He’s already exhausted.

Thor grins over his cigarette. “You know I like to do things in threes.”

Bucky snorts and then just shakes his head. “You’re crazy.”

“Yeah. So what?” Thor leans back against the headboard, watching him. “You like it.”

Bucky just snorts with laughter. He takes a deep swig of whiskey. “Yeah, alright.”

He does like it.

It’s past four in the morning by the time they’re finished. Thor’s as good as his word. Bucky feels like he’s been fucked through a thunderstorm. He’s pretty sure there are bruises along the backs of his legs, as well as his hips. He can still feel Thor’s lips burning upon his skin. He had kissed Bucky’s stomach again when they were done for real, and the way his mouth had lingered with pleasure and affection makes Bucky’s skin tingle all over again.

“Stay.” Thor whispers, kissing Bucky’s hair. “Sleep beside me.”

At this point Bucky’s just grateful for it to be okay. He’s too exhausted to move. He falls asleep with Thor’s arm draped over him, something that ordinarily would have bothered Bucky, but it’s different with Thor. He’s different with Thor. He feels…safe.

* * *

It’s barely dawn when Bucky wakes up, still beside Thor. He lies there for a moment, feeling the warmth of the enormous body next to him, the rhythm of Thor’s breathing in his sleep, and then he slips out from under the covers, and Thor’s arm, feeling around on the floor for his clothes.

He lets himself quietly out the front door and walks down the long length of the drive, his body fully reminding him of every single thing they did last night, and not really regretting it, except he’s so fucking sore. All the way down to the end, past the gates and then he turns and looks back up at the house on the cliff.

Bucky whistles a little as he walks down the road to the nearest bus stop. He had left a note by the side of the bed, not wanting Thor to think he hadn’t had a good time. Not that Thor could possibly think he _hadn’t_ had a good time, but all the same.

Still he's just not able to stick around. He isn’t good at the morning after. Better just to call it a night and leave it at that.

* * *

When Thor finally wakes up he rolls over and buries his face in the empty pillows beside him. Last night had been unexpectedly pleasant. He hadn't anticipated enjoying spending time with Bucky that much. He'd thought it would be fun. A night of meaningless distraction, but not anything more. And now...

He glances over, sees the note Bucky left. _Thanks for the race, hotshot. _Thor chuckles and leans back against the pillows, a smile upon his lips.

Now he wants to see Bucky again. If he’s honest, he wishes Bucky had stayed and woken up beside him and perhaps they could have indulged in a morning tumble. But instead Bucky must have left early. Strange that Thor hadn't even heard him go. But then he’d always been a sound sleeper. It was Loki who had always woken at the slightest sound no matter what they took, or how much they drank, or how tired they were, he was always alert the following morning.

With a groan, Thor smashes his fist into the pillow. Lately thoughts of Loki have surfaced more and more. And yet last night, when Thor had mentioned him, however obliquely, to Bucky, it hadn't hurt as much as usual. Bucky had understood how it was, he knew how it felt to lose someone. That was a unique feeling. Thor had never met someone who understood. That alone was enough to make him want to seek out Bucky's company again.

But in addition to the sex, in addition to Bucky...Thor simply hasn't had an evening, a date, anything, that enjoyable with anyone in years.

He rises nude from the bed and wanders out to the living room, vaguely looking for the telephone before he goes into the kitchen. Turning the coffee on, he wanders back out to the broad bay window overlooking the water. He debates whether it’s too early to call, usually he’d leave it a week or so before he’d call someone back, but screw it, he wants to call. He calls Bucky's number, or rather the garage since that's the only number Bucky gave him.

"Sam’s garage."

"Hello, may I speak to Bucky please?"

"One sec."

Thor waits. He wonders again if it’s too early to call, but clearly they’re already at work. In the background, he hears the man calling, "Yo, Buck. someone on the line for you."

"Who is it?"

"Hell should I know?"

A mumbled response and then Bucky’s voice impatient and busy.

"Yeah?"

"Hi." Thor murmurs, feeling absurdly self-conscious. It's normal to call after a good date, even if the morning after is a bit soon. Why does Bucky sound so angry? Had he done something wrong? He glances again at the note that he had carried with him from the bedroom. “It’s me. Thor.”

"Oh," Bucky pauses. “Hi.”

"Is this a good time?"

"Depends." Bucky drawls. "It's kinda inconvenient if you're looking for a hookup."

Thor grins. "Am I allowed to call you up for sex now? That's quite the perk."

"Well,” Bucky clears his throat. “We don't have to go out every time."

"I like taking you out."

"I liked going out with you." Bucky's voice drops, lower, softer, but still hesitant. "But..."

"But?"

"I don't know. Just...I wasn't expecting last night, okay? I wasn't expecting you."

Thor's smile is so wide it could cross the heavens. "I feel the same way."

"Yeah, so...?"

"So?"

"So what happens next?"

"What happens next is I ask you when can I see you again?"

* * *

After making another date, Bucky hangs up. For a minute his hand just lingers on the phone, like he’s still thinking of Thor at the other end, and then he sees Sam just smirking at him.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

Bucky throws an old antenna at him. He’s just glad Nebula’s still on vacation this week. It would be hell if he had to deal with her ribbing as well. Sam is more than enough for now.

* * *

Sam’s working on the car out front when Thor pulls up this time. He nods to him as Thor parks and gets out.

“Afternoon.”

“Good afternoon.” Thor smiles at him. He likes Sam, what he’s seen of the man anyway. 

“Bucky’s finishing up a job. He’ll be back soon.” Sam eyes him.

“Thank you.” Thor watches him drop the hood.

“Actually, I was about to grab a beer. Want one?”

“Sure.” Thor follows him into the shade of the shop where Sam opens a small blue cooler and produces two beers, opening one and handing it to Thor before opening his own.

“Cheers.”

“Cheers.” They clink bottles.

“So, second date, huh.” Sam smirks at him.

“Apparently.” Thor simply smiles.

“First one musta gone well.”

“Mmm.” Thor takes a sip of his beer. “You’d have to ask Bucky that.”

“Well, you’re discreet.” Sam says. “Have to give you that.”

Thor looks at him over his beer. “Are you going to warn me now?” He’d wondered if this was coming.

“Warn you?” Sam repeats, still smiling. “What would I be warning you about?”

“That if I were to possibly hurt your friend, intentionally or accidentally, I would regret it. Is that right?”

Sam shrugs, folding his arms across his broad chest. “That’s about the size of it.”

“Good.” Thor says simply.

“Good?” Sam looks surprised.

“A person should care about their friends’ well being. And I give you my word, that I have no intention of hurting Bucky.” He holds out his hand.

After a moment Sam takes it. “Glad to hear it.”

They go back to drinking their beer, but then Sam hesitates. “Bucky’s been through a lot.” That’s all he says.

“I know.” Thor says. From the very little Bucky told him about being overseas, Thor gathered a whole lot more had happened. He wonders if that’s why he feels oddly protective of Bucky, but he knows there’s more to it than that.

There’s a flicker of surprise in Sam’s eyes at his words, but all he says is, “I’m gonna hold you to your word.”

“I know.” Thor says again.

Sam just grins. “I can see now why he wanted you to win that race.”

Thor’s eyebrows shoot upward. “Is that right?”

They’re still laughing when Bucky pulls up on his bike and parks. Thor makes a sound of approval watching him pull off his helmet, shaking his hair free. He should have known Bucky had a motorcycle. It seems entirely appropriate.

“How long have you been here?” He asks, coming over to them, “And what did I miss?”

“Long enough.” Sam grins.

“Hello.” Thor smiles at Bucky.

“Hi.” Bucky says back and then, Thor leans over to kiss him. He can feel Sam watching them, feels his ears going red, but decides not to care. “Okay, um…I gotta wash up and then…”

“I’ll wait.” Thor says.

Bucky shoots him and Sam a quick look but ducks into the back room where there’s a cot for nights when he’s not able to get home. He keeps a spare t-shirt there, and now he takes off the one covered in oil and reaches for the soap. He gives himself a quick scrub-down but knows he still smells like oil underneath.

When he comes out, hair damp and neatly combed back into a fresh ponytail, Sam and Thor are still chuckling over something.

“Do I even wanna know?” Bucky asks.

“Naw.” Sam shakes his head while winking at Thor who just smirks back.

“See you later.” Bucky says, giving up.

“Yeah, later.” Sam gives them a wave as he goes back to work.

“It’s just the two of you working the garage?”

“Nope, there’s Nebula as well, but she’s in Bermuda right now. Should be getting back in a day or so.” He should really check the schedule, Bucky reminds himself.

* * *

They go to a slightly nicer place this time. It feels like Thor is on doing this on purpose, because he likes how Bucky looks and smells. Bucky just rolls with it. He’s soon figured out that people aren’t looking at them because of him, but because of Thor, and that’s just how it’s gonna be.

They get back to Thor’s place around nine, Bucky’s hard already, thinking about last time.

Thor pulls into the driveway and grins at him.

“What?”

“Come on.” Thor kisses him.

He doesn’t answer Bucky until they’re inside the house and only then does he turn to him, smirking as he presses Bucky against the wall. “You thought I’d win.”

“What?”

Thor’s thumb strokes him through his jeans and Bucky arches up on the tips of his toes. “You thought I’d win the race. You wanted me to.” He strokes harder. “You wanted me to fuck you.” There’s pure delight in his voice.

Bucky squirms. “So?”

Thor just laughs and leans down to kiss him.

“It’s not unrealistic to think a champion will win in a car race.” Bucky informs him, leaning back against the wall as Thor gets his zipper open.

“Mm, a champion. Is that what I am?”

“Yeah.” Bucky murmurs. “I’d say so.” He didn’t want to be this fan struck but he can’t help it. Thor is the real deal, larger than life and twice as beautiful.

Thor pulls his pants and briefs down in one motion, leaving Bucky bare-assed against the wall.

Thor just grins at the sight of his dick thrusting out, all red and eager. “Stay right there.”

They could move this to the bed, Bucky thinks or even the couch but at the same time he’s too turned on to actually move. He simply waits until Thor comes back. He steps up close, kissing Bucky’s neck as he gets his cock out. Bucky stifles a moan at the sight of him. Thor slicks his fingertips and slides them between his legs, Bucky spreading them as far as the jeans trapping his ankles will let them. Thor’s barely done more than a few strokes before Bucky tells him he’s ready.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Bucky says impatiently.

Thor kisses his shoulder. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

‘You’re not gonna hurt me.” Bucky tells him.

“All right.” Thor kisses him again. “Brace your hands against the wall.”

Bucky does, readying himself, but even when he knows it’s coming, nothing can prepare him for how Thor feels. He gasps as Thor thrusts into him, his own cock rising in heated mutual desire. Bucky’s head falls between his shoulders as Thor fucks into him, hands heavy on Bucky’s hips.

“Do you want to be fucked by a champion?” Thor murmurs, biting at his shoulder.

Bucky just groans yes. He braces his palms harder against the wall as Thor thrusts into him, his breath is ragged. Thor grips a handful of his hair and pulls just a fraction, and then harder, and Bucky comes, clenching hard around Thor’s cock. Thor keeps moving inside him till he comes as well, and Bucky wonders, half-slumped, half-collapsed against the wall, Thor leaning into him, if this is just gonna be a regular thing.

He can certainly handle that if it’s the case, but he might need to start doing more legwork at the gym.

* * *

It’s the third date when Thor’s PA shows up to find him because he missed a meeting, and Bucky insists that it’s not his fault. He didn’t even know Thor had a meeting. Thor had just called and asked if he wanted to grab a bite to eat and Bucky had explained he couldn’t leave the office cause he was the only one there and they were expecting a call they couldn’t miss. So Thor had brought him dinner, burgers and beer and one thing led to another, so it’s really not Bucky’s fault that Thor was here in the office with him, with his hand down Bucky’s pants as they made out against the desk when she walked in.

No this is is entirely Thor’s fault.

He glares at Thor’s retreating back as he goes into the back room to tidy himself before turning back to the assistant.

“Sorry about that.”

“Oh, no need for apologies,” She shrugs it off. “Trust me, I’ve seen way worse.”

Bucky doesn’t even want to touch that comment with a ten-foot pole. He can certainly imagine.

The brunette just smiles. “Darcy.”

“Bucky.”

“I know.” She smirks at him. “I did the recon on you when Thor got his first hard-on for you at the club.”

“Excuse me?” Bucky squints at her.

“After that fight.” Darcy leans against the car. "He wanted to know all about you so I dug around.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky looks at her. “What’d you find?”

“Surprisingly little.” Darcy admits. She grins at him. “You’re a mystery.”

“Thank you.” Bucky says. He didn’t set out to be. It just worked out that way. In a way, being declared dead had been helpful like that. He had no ties back home, no family to go back for, nothing at all. It was useful in a way.

“Didn’t stop Thor of course. You know how he is.”

“Yeah.” Bucky murmurs. “I know how he is.” He certainly does now.

“There.” Thor announces. “Am I presentable?” He holds out his arms and turns. There’s no evidence that he was giving a handjob only moments ago and Bucky’s jealous as hell that there’s no trace of it, no trace of him, left behind. The thought stops him in his tracks. He doesn’t have any reason to be jealous.

“Mmm,” Darcy mutters. “You’ll do.”

“As for you.” Thor turns to Bucky, leaning down to kiss him lingering on the lips, reminding Bucky all too well of just what they were up to five minutes ago. “We’ll finish this later.” He brushes the tips of his fingers over Bucky’s dick through his jeans, grinning at him as they leave.

“Bye.” Darcy calls over her shoulder. “It was nice to meet you!”

“Yeah, likewise.” Bucky crosses his arms and leans against the desk.

Where the hell had that jealous feeling come from? It’s not like he wants to be in a relationship. It’s not like this _is_ a relationship. They’ve fucked a few times. That’s it. That’s the extent of it. And it’s fine. It's more than fine. So where had that come from?

He goes back to waiting by the phone for their client, but his eyes still stray to the photo on the bulletin board more often than not. What would Steve think of Thor? He’d have liked him, Bucky decides. There’s no way he couldn’t like Thor.

Bucky sighs, scratching at his bearded jaw and sitting back in his chair.

“I miss you.” He says softly to the photograph. “Wish you were here.”

* * *

The report would sit on his desk for a little while first before he finally reads it. Sometimes it was something he looks forward to, a memento of the past, just to keep tabs as they say. Other times when he’s bored, it’s something to distract him.

Thor is nothing, if not a good distraction. And his antics, as their dear old father used to refer to them, have grown more and more amusing, since he stopped racing, if that’s even possible. Modeling, supporting art galleries, all the drugs and the parties with the models, hookers, and the eternal mob of fans clustered around him. Still driving too fast, still living too brightly.

Still smiling for the camera – that’s Thor.

Usually he reads the reports and then simply adds them to the file. Occasionally he’ll set one aside to reread. There’s a particularly memorable one with Thor and three models in Mexico he found quite enjoyable, but as a rule, they don’t cause Loki any particular emotion one way or another.

Until this report. Loki reads it once and then a second time. it can’t mean anything. This man, this fighter, can’t mean anything. But for a moment, looking at the photo of the man and Thor, coming out of the bar, Thor’s head bending down to capture his mouth in a kiss, from this angle, with his dark hair and the shadowed line of his jaw, it’s like Loki is looking at a ghost of himself.

He sits there in the silent office, letting the ice melt in his drink while he contemplates the past and the present, and the silence in-between.


	2. Chapter 2

  
  
They've been out to clubs, and gone dancing. Thor's taken him to cool dives and swanky nightclubs. They’ve seen The Rolling Stones and Queen and INXS, because once Thor realized how much Bucky loves music and how many of the same bands they liked, he insists on taking him to concerts. Obviously Bucky doesn’t object. In general, Bucky always feels slightly uncomfortable to begin with, wherever they go, and then it doesn't matter because he's with Thor.

* * *

  
  
  
Bucky stretches and leans back. He's pleasantly achy from all of the other night's activities. He's gone out with Thor for nearly a month now and still has no idea what they're doing.  
  
"Just have fun." Sam tells him.  
  
“I _am_ having fun.” Bucky sighs. "I just don’t know how to describe it.”  
  
“Why do you have to describe it? Why does everything have to be in a box, man?”  
  
“I don’t know. I just don’t know how I feel about just being fuck buddies I guess.”  
  
Nebula slides out from under the car she’s working on to stare at him. “Why the fuck don't you want to be fuck buddies with Thor Odinson?"  
  
When she puts it like that, Bucky's not sure why not. He just wanted more, he supposes. But even being fuck buddies with Thor feels like more, somehow. That’s the puzzling part.  
  
The phone rings and he looks at it for a second before answering. "Sam’s."  
  
"Is that the mechanic with the good mouth?"  
  
Bucky rolls his eyes. "What do you want, Thor?” He turns his back so he can’t see Sam making kissing faces at him. The gestures Nebula’s making at him are plain lewd.  
  
"What're you doing this weekend?"  
  
"I was gonna work on my bike."   
  
"Sounds like you’ll be busy." Thor says.  
  
Bucky waits. He already knows that if he says he really is busy, Thor will tell him to have a good weekend and end it. So instead he asks. "What'd you have in mind?"  
  
"I would like to take you out to dinner Friday night and then, perhaps keep you company the rest of the weekend."  
  
Bucky feels himself smiling. "Okay."  
  
There's a pause and then Thor murmurs. "Are you sure you want to agree so easily? I had a whole list of persuasions written down to use."  
  
"Save them for next time." Bucky tells him and Thor laughs.  
  
"Very well."  
  
"Where are we going Friday?"  
  
"Some place warm and romantic. Do you happen to know where your passport is?"  
  
That gives Bucky pause. "Why do I need my passport?"  
  
"Just bring it."  
  
"Okay, okay, I'll bring my passport. What else do I need to bring?"  
  
"Just your charming self."  
  
"Right." Bucky says dryly and hangs up.

* * *

  
  
  
He asks Sam to feed Stevie for the weekend.  
  
"Sure thing, where're you going?"  
  
"Honestly no idea."  
  
"Well, well. Look who’s off for a romantic getaway.”  
  
"You're the one who told me to have fun, Sam."  
  
"I remember."

"I'll bring you a souvenir."

"You do that."

* * *

  
  
  
Thor picks him up at 6 at the shop. Bucky's having a beer, sitting on the hood of the car he's been working on when Thor drives up.  
  
"That's my ride." He hands his beer to Sam who salutes him with it.  
  
"Have fun."  
  
Bucky just shrugs and heads over to the car. He's just wearing jeans and a t-shirt under his leather jacket. He assumes Thor will tell him if he ever needs to dress up for something, and he'll deal with that problem when it comes. It's a lot easier when their dates just involve staying in bed. The dress code is less of a problem.  
  
"Hi." He pulls open the passenger side and slides in.  
  
"Hi." Thor smiles at him as he leans over to give Bucky a kiss. "Ready for an adventure?"  
  
"As I'll ever be." Bucky tells him. He gives Sam a wave as they drive away.  
  


* * *

  
  
They drive out to an airstrip and Thor leaves the car and gestures for Bucky to go ahead to a small plane waiting on the tarmac. Bucky pats his pocket, just to make sure he does actually have his passport with him.  
  
The plane is small and intimate. Thor says something to the pilot, whose laughter echoes through the plane. Bucky leans down to look out the window as they get ready for takeoff.  
  
"Would you like a drink?" Thor comes back in the main cabin and shuts the door behind him.  
  
Bucky nods, watching him pull open a side cabinet to reveal a built-in bar. "Thought you'd have a personal stewardess for this."  
  
"I'd rather serve you myself."   
  
"Is that right?" Bucky grins up at him as Thor leans over to kiss him, resting a hand on either side of the seat.   
  
"In fact." Thor hands him his drink and then kneels deftly in front of Bucky. He reaches for Bucky's zipper and Bucky just lets him, sipping his drink as Thor undoes his zipper and draws him out.   
  
This is not what he thought tonight would bring. Bucky leans back back, tasting the lime on the drink Thor poured him, the thick swirl of Thor's tongue on him. He grips the arm of the seat, and then gives in and curls his fingers through Thor's hair, earning a deep appreciative moan. The plane starts heading down the runway and Thor just keeps sucking him.  
  
Bucky groans again as the plane lifts off, Thor’s tongue working its magic along his length.  
  
Thor only draws off once they're stable in the air, wrapping his fist around Bucky's cock, jerking him tightly, and making Bucky squirm in his grasp.  
  
"Now," Thor whispers. "Would you like me to let you come, and then fuck you, or would you like me to drag it out and make you beg for it?"   
  
Bucky squirms again, whimpering. "The second one."  
  
"Really?" Thor leans in to kiss him again. "How delightful."  
  
Bucky immediately regrets his decision as Thor releases his cock and straightens up.  
  
He still half expects someone to catch them, but that’s the beauty of being on your own private plane, he supposes. You can fuck wherever you want.  
  
“Get up.”

Bucky does and Thor just presses him up against the wall, hands capturing Bucky’s wrists as he sucks at Bucky’s neck. Bucky’s dick throbs with need, pressing hotly against his belly, trapped between their bodies. He should have chosen the first option, but it’s too late now.  
  
There’s a curved seat tucked into a corner at the back of the airplane, and this is where Thor leads him, kissing Bucky all the while, dipping a hand between them to stroke his cock until Bucky whimpers into his mouth.  
  
“Kneel on the seat.” Thor instructs, “Hands on the back of it."  
  
Bucky obeys, but then he twists to watch Thor drawing down his jeans and taking his cock out. It should not turn him on so much, size doesn’t really matter, but Thor just fits all over, and Bucky loves the sight of his dick. Honestly if he had to choose between just looking at Thor’s dick and actually touching it, it would be a tough choice.  
  
Thor reaches for Bucky’s pants, pulling them down. He moves closer, pressing his bare cock between Bucky’s ass, just rubbing against him until Bucky feels hotter than hell and ready to come.  
  
“Do you like that?” Thor whispers. “Shall I fuck you now?”  
  
“God, yes, please.” Bucky blurts out.  
  
Thor just laughs and opens a cabinet along the back of the seat. There’s condoms and lube in there and Bucky can’t help wondering just how many times Thor’s done this, fucked someone here on this very seat on this plane, used these same lines, and he finds, to his surprise, it doesn’t matter.  
  
Thor rubs just the broad pad of his thumb, slicked well, against Bucky’s hole. He tries to clench around it, tries desperately to get some friction on anything, but Thor’s still teasing him. Bucky groans and then Thor slips his thumb in, just inside the rim, still teasing as he moves it in a slow circular motion, loosening Bucky up.  
  
He could fuck Bucky solely with his thumb and that would be enough to make Bucky come. They both know this by now.  
  
Instead Thor pulls it free after a few circles and reaches for a condom. Bucky grips the back of the seat as he positions himself, and then there’s no holding back the groan he makes as Thor thrusts into him.  
  
Thor’s breath is hot on the back of his neck, his left hand encircles Buck’s chest, pulling him deeper onto his dick, until Bucky’s filled with him. His own dick is throbbing, dripping over the seat, and god, Thor’s going to have to get that cleaned, Bucky can’t think about that now. He’s so close and Thor’s still not touching him.  
  
Thor kisses the back of his neck, sucking on Bucky’s skin. “Do you want to come?”  
  
“Yes.” Bucky groans.  
  
“Tell me then.” Thor’s voice is a golden purr as he rocks inside him. “Tell me how you would like to.”  
  
“God,” Bucky’s head drops as Thor slows his pace, measuring the rhythm of his hips, how he moves inside of Bucky. “I need – I need you to just keep fucking me until I can’t help myself, until it’s too much,” he gasps as Thor brushes the sweet spot inside him. “I need you to fuck me harder until I just…" He can’t even say it. He’s too close and Thor just keeps him hovering there on the edge.  
  
“Until your cock surrenders.” Thor whispers into his ear. “Solely to me.”  
  
“Yes.” Bucky whimpers. “Yes.”  
  
Thor eases out of him, and then presses the head of his cock back to Bucky’s hole again, teasing his rim. Bucky’s panting like he’s in heat, his dick aches so much, and he knows the stains on the seat are going to be a bitch to get out, but still Thor doesn’t thrust back inside him.  
  
So Bucky presses back against him, rubbing his ass shamelessly against Thor's cock head. “Please, Thor, please. Fuck me.”  
  
“I like it when you say my name.”  
  
“Thor.” Bucky murmurs, turning his head to kiss him, “Thor.” He cries out loudly as Thor impales him with one solid thrust and Bucky’s whole body jerks and comes in response. He shoots helplessly across the seat in front of him, staining it even more.  
  
He’s still panting as Thor eases out of him and tosses the condom in the trash, half sinking to his knees. And then he realizes Thor still hasn’t come. Bucky looks up at him, licking his lips. “What…”  
  
“Look at the mess you made.” Thor says conversationally. He gestures to the seat and Bucky looks at it, cheeks already burning as he gazes at the spunk-covered material.  
  
“Clean it off.”  
  
“With what?” Bucky looks around but there’s nothing to use.  
  
“Your mouth.” Thor tells him.  
  
Bucky opens his mouth to say he’s not doing that, to say something, but instead he finds himself turning and shuffling forward, awkwardly on his knees, bending down to lick tentatively at the closest stain. He’s working his way across the seat when Thor leans down and just picks him up, settling on the seat on all fours.  
  
“What’re…”  
  
“Keep going.” Thor commands, and Bucky leans down obediently once more, even as he can't believe Thor has this effect on him. He has to lean even further, his ass sticking up high in the air as he does, and when his tongue reaches the material, he feels Thor’s hands on his ass, spreading his cheeks wide, and Bucky knows what he’s going to do even before the first warm press of Thor’s tongue inside him.  
  
Bucky rocks forward on his knees, trying to brace himself as Thor tongue fucks him languidly. It’s too much. His dick can’t possibly go again yet, but the sensations Thor is causing in his ass make Bucky want to scream with pleasure. It’s not the first time he’s been rimmed, but it’s been a while, and the other guy who had done it, definitely hadn’t had this good of a tongue or known exactly what he could do with his lips.   
  
He tries to keep going, cleaning the seat, but it’s impossible, and finally he gives up, settling for just kneeling there, ass in the air as Thor eats him out like a soldier home on leave at his first all you can eat buffet.  
  
Just when Bucky thinks he’s going to finally lose it and say he can’t take it anymore, the beard burn alone is gonna cause some serious friction later, he hears Thor grunt, and then his tongue is gone, and Bucky looks over his shoulder to see Thor, reaching for him again. He turns Bucky over on his back, and takes his dick in hand, stroking himself over Bucky’s upturned face. It takes Thor three strokes to come. And Bucky just stares up him as Thor coats him in his come. It lands on his face and his shirt, his hair, his stomach, his chest and still sore cock. At last Thor’s done and he sits back on his knees, looking at Bucky.  
  
“You look like you could use a shower.”  
  
“Fuck you.” Bucky growls, reaching for him. “This is entirely your fault.” He kicks off his jeans and straddles Thor, kissing him fiercely, letting Thor’s spunk mix upon both their skins.  
  
Thor just picks him up with a laugh and carries him down the plane aisle to the bathroom. Which of course has a shower. It’s even big enough for the both of them, but just barely.  
  
Thor makes no complaints when Bucky sinks to his knees and takes his cock in his mouth. Even spent, Thor is a pleasant weight and Bucky loves the feel of him on his tongue. He kneels there, letting the water run down his hair and down his back, Thor’s dick in his mouth, and knows himself to be truly content for once.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Afterwards Bucky points out that he doesn't have any clothes since Thor came all over the ones he wore on this date.  
  
"Look in that top drawer over there." Thor gestures as he makes them both fresh drinks at the bar, a towel draped lazily over his hips. It would take very little to pull it off and Bucky's thinking about doing just that when he opens the drawer.  
  
There are briefs and socks, and t-shirts, and pajama pants and a new pair of jeans that he suspects are just his size. He throws a look at Thor as he grabs a t-shirt and a pair of boxers.   
  
“You didn't really have to get jizz on all my clothes if you wanted to buy me some. You could have just asked." He pulls the boxers on, adjusts himself. A perfect fit.   
  
"And would you have let me?" Thor takes a sip of his martini, watching him.  
  
"Probably not." Bucky concedes. He pulls the shirt over his head and lowers it, to find Thor still just gazing at him. "What?"  
  
"I know it's uncomfortable that I have a lot of money." Thor murmurs.   
  
_A lot of money is one way to put it_, Bucky thinks.  
  
"But you'll have to accept that I have it, and at times, I want to spend that money on you. I want to take you places and I wish to buy you things. Can you accept that?'  
  
Bucky looks at him. "Drop the towel."  
  
Thor does without even hesitating. He stands there sipping his drink, buck naked, still waiting for Bucky's response.   
  
"Yeah I guess I can handle that." Bucky says at last. It's not fully decided. He can already tell they're going to have to argue about the nature of gifts and just how much he's willing to let Thor spend on him. But a few pairs of underwear and some t-shirts? That at least he can be gracious about. It’s the sort of thing a boyfriend would get you. He brushes the thought away.  
  
"Come here." He says, sprawling on the other lounging seat where they didn't get any jizz.   
  
Thor sets his drink down and comes over to him, kneeling on either of Bucky as he straddles him. Bucky slides his hands down Thor's back as he leans in to press his mouth to Thor's broad bare chest. He looks up at him, sees Thor smiling down at him.  
  
Bucky just grins and leans up to kiss him.  


* * *

  
  
They sleep like that, curled up on the lounger, or rather, Thor stretches out and Bucky curls up atop him, not intending to sleep at all, but there's a blinking light outside the window a short while later and he wakes sleepily, looking out at the darkness.  
  
"Where are we?"  
  
"France." Thor mumbles.   
  
"What?'  
  
"You know, France." Thor yawns and stretches.  
  
Bucky beans him in the face with a small cushion. "You never said anything about flying to France."  
  
"I asked you if you had your passport, what's the big deal?"  
  
Bucky just shakes his head and reaches for the pair of jeans in the drawer. He ducks into the bathroom to get dressed, and run his fingers through hair, trying to tell if this is a dream or not. No, his subconscious reminds him, you know who would be there if it was a dream. He shuts down that line of thought immediately. This is no time to think of Steve.  
  
There are some nights where it's okay. Some moments when Bucky lets himself get caught up in nostalgia for the friend he once had and lost. Lost to the past, to the army, to time. He still doesn't know what happened to Steve. At times he's thought about looking for him again, but what's the point? Steve could have found him and he didn't. He’d made that that choice.  
  
After he had gotten out, after he had been transferred and stuck in a hospital bed, Bucky had thought that's when Steve would show up then. But Steve had never showed, and the weeks turned into months and Bucky got his discharge papers._ Thank you very much for your service. Sorry your arm got fucked up. We regret it most sincerely. Have a nice life. _  
  
His arm's mostly recovered these days. It's kinda stiff when it rains, but he can work around that. He can still fix cars, still ride his bike, still get himself off, and other people too for that matter. That's all that really matters.  
  
There are some times he's angry at Steve, because Steve was the one who first promised they'd always be friends, always together, even to the end of the line. They had had big dreams for when they got out of the service. They were going to open a place together, and Steve was going to design movie and concert posters, make big money with his art. Well, Bucky kept his half of the bargain. At least he works in a car shop these days. Who the fuck knows where Steve is?  
  
That's the hard part. If he only knew...  
  
_Snap out of it_, Bucky tells himself. _Steve's not here, and Thor is. A sweet, sexy guy who flew you to Paris and banged you on his private plane just because he could and he wanted to._  
  
He closes his eyes and when he opens them again it's like he never even thought about Steve at all.

* * *

  
  
  
France is unbelievable. It's been almost ten years since Bucky was in Europe and he's missed it more than he realized. They drive along the Riviera and stay in a villa by the sea. Thor goes swimming first thing in the morning, his bare body dipping in and amongst the bright blue waves like a great golden sea creature. Bucky lounges on the veranda, sipping sweet dark coffee and eating crepes swirled richly with chocolate, and getting somehow even more tan, and feeling like he's a million miles away from reality.   
  
They go gambling that evening, and Thor does have a tux for him to wear that night of course. Bucky pretends he's James Bond escorting his hot fellow spy for the evening and later gets Thor to seduce him in the stairwell, in the manner of James Bond.   
  
“How does it feel to be back?” He asks one night on the balcony as Thor looks out over the sea. "Do you miss the way it was?"  
  
“I love being in France.” Thor says. “I enjoy being here with you. I don’t miss back then.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
'It's over." Thor shakes his head and sips his martini. “I don’t regret that time in my life,” he says at last, “but I have regrets about it.”  
  
Bucky waits, but he doesn’t say anything more, just stares off at the sea.

* * *

  
  
They fly back Sunday, drinking champagne and making out lazily on the plane, so that Bucky is still half-hard by the time they land, and when Thor sucks on his neck and whispers, "Stay the night with me." It's not hard to say yes.  
  
He calls Sam once they get back to the house and leaves a message. "Tell Stevie I'll be home tomorrow." Bucky says and hangs up.   
  
Thor's already in the shower, and smiles at him lazily over his shoulder when Bucky joins him. He wraps his hand around Bucky's dick, squeezing it.   
  
"How would you like to get off?"  
  
That's the thing with Thor. He's always offering Bucky so many more choices than Bucky thought were possible. If Thor had simply said, let's fuck, that would be good. if he said he wanted to go down on Bucky, that also would have been great, but now Bucky's brain is paralyzed, too many ideas, too many images invading all at once. One image in particular advances and no matter how much he tries, he can’t make it retreat.  
  
"Bucky?" Thor asks.  
  
"Ah, anything's fine." Bucky says.  
  
Thor just stops stroking him, and looks at him. "Seriously?"  
  
"I just..." Bucky sighs, and leans back against the wall. "It's not that big of a deal." He didn't even know he wanted it until Thor asked what he wanted.  
  
"What isn't?"  
  
"If I had won the race..." Bucky starts and then stops. It's going so good with Thor. He doesn't want to push it. It doesn't really matter if Thor doesn't want to get fucked. It doesn't. Everybody's got a different preference.  
  
"Then like you said, you would have gotten to decide."  
  
"And you woulda been fine with that?" Bucky presses, still needing to know.  
  
"If you had wanted to be on top?" Thor grins at him, slipping a hand between Bucky's legs and cupping his genitals. "Are you kidding me? I'd love it if you wanted to do that."  
  
"Seriously?" Bucky's eyes widen in spite of himself. Thor's the epitome of manliness. Anybody would be surprised to hear he'd be okay with having a dick up his ass.   
  
"Of course." Thor looks surprised. "Why wouldn't I? It feels great."  
  
"Yeah but." Bucky jeans leans his head back and looks at him. "You really don't care what anybody thinks about you, do you?"  
  
"No." Thor says simply and kisses him. "So anytime you want to stick your cock inside me, I would thoroughly enjoy it."  
  
Bucky's knees nearly go weak at his words. "Yeah, I’d like that." 

* * *

  
  
They dry off and Thor keeps kissing him and biting at his neck, like he's excited at the thought of Bucky fucking him, and Bucky still can't believe it's going to happen. They get to Thor's bedroom, and he looks out at the wide view of the valley, all the bright lights down below and then Thor comes up behind him, slipping his arms around him, kissing his throat.   
  
"I want you." He whispers.  
  
They tumble back on the bed and Bucky just straddles him, staring down at Thor. "What brought you to the club that night?"  
  
"Why?"   
  
"Just curious. You're not really a regular." He would have noticed is what he means. It's easy to notice Thor. He stands out in a crowd.  
  
"Not really." Thor agrees. "If you must know, I was bored...and looking for a distraction."   
  
"A distraction huh?" Bucky raises an eyebrow, privately amused that he was half right at least. Thor had been looking for a distraction, even if he didn't turn out to be an asshole. "You can do anything you want, have anything, anyone you want, and you still need distraction?"  
  
"Can I though?" Thor whispers. "Have anyone i want?" He nudges his hips and Bucky runs a hand over his cock.   
  
"I'm here in your bed, aren't I?" Bucky grins. "Only took you how many tries?'  
  
Thor's laughter rumbles out of him, rippling over Bucky like sunshine. "That's true, I suppose." He smirks up at Bucky. "So I have you, and now I get your cock."  
  
'If you really want it." Bucky wants to make sure Thor knows he can change his mind.  
  
"How can you ask that? Of course I want it." Thor nods at the table to his left. "There's lube in there, as well condoms and some toys."  
  
"Toys, eh?" Bucky leans over him to investigate. He pulls out a black and purple dildo and holds it up. "Really?"  
  
"It feels amazing." Thor tells him.   
  
"Okay, I'll take your word for it." Bucky puts it back. For tonight he settles for simply working Thor open with his fingers, slicked and dexterous, testing his hole with more and more boldness until Thor’s relaxed and stretched.  
  
"So..." Bucky can't decide if he can ask the question or not.  
  
"When was the last time I got fucked?"   
  
"Yeah."   
  
"It's been a while." Thor says. "It was either a guy at a party a year or so, or....my ex-girlfriend."  
  
"Oh really?”  
  
"Yeah, she's good with a strap-on."  
  
"Huh." Bucky thinks about that for a minute. He vaguely remembers seeing pictures of Thor with a woman, but to be fair Thor's often accompanied by women to galas and charities. He has no idea of knowing which one is the ex.   
  
"Enough." Thor says finally. "I'm ready for you."  
  
Bucky reaches for a condom. He move slowly at first, pressing inside Thor gently until he’s past the still tight rim, and then a little further.  
  
Thor grunts, moving an arm to rest behind his head as he watches him. “I said I was ready. You’re not going to break me.”  
  
“Okay.” Bucky thrusts deeper and then he’s fully inside Thor and he has to hold himself still for a moment while his brain adjusts. “Fuck.”  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
‘I’m fantastic.” Bucky murmurs. The heat of Thor’s body surrounding his dick is amazing. It’s been too long. He wants to just stay right here, but an impatient twitch of Thor’s hips brings him back.  
  
“You feel amazing.” Bucky starts moving and nearly loses it then to, as Thor moves with him. Thor’s hands slide down his back, cupping his ass, squeezing him.  
  
“Harder.” Thor growls and Bucky’s dick responds before the rest of him. He loses track of time as they fuck, there are only their joined bodies, naked and needy. Thor’s hands grip him harder, urging him on and on and on. The sweat rolls off Bucky’s chest as he moves inside him and the room is filled with the scent of sex. Thor leans up and kisses him, one hand sliding up to cup the back of Bucky’s neck. Bucky’s lost, in the kiss, in the swell of it as he feels Thor coming. He can’t hold back and they come together in a rush of heat and pleasure.  
  
Bucky slumps on Thor’s chest, gasping. Thor just strokes his back wordlessly, as Bucky finally slips out of him.  
  
“Wow.” Bucky murmurs. He doesn’t care if he sounds awestruck. He is. He presses a kiss to Thor’s chest and then upon his lips. “Thank you.”  
  
“Thank you.” Thor returns. “I told you I enjoy it, and I did.” He strokes Bucky’s face affectionately, even lovingly, and Bucky just gazes at him, wondering whether second chances are real or if this is something else instead.  
  


* * *

  
  
“You look like something the cat dragged around and fucked all night, except I’m assuming the cat in question was a big buff blonde dude.”  
  
“You’re not wrong.” Bucky says. He slumps into his chair with a groan, hugging his coffee.  
  
“So where’d you go?”  
  
“France.”  
  
“Are you shitting me?”  
  
“Nope.” Bucky blows on his coffee. He feels like most of their conversations include Sam’s incredulity at these points.  
  
“That’s insane, man.”  
  
“I know. I feel like I’m high when I’m around him.”  
  
“Why? Is he giving you something?”  
  
“No,” exasperated Bucky tosses a cloth at Sam. “I didn’t say I was high, I said I feel like I’m high. All excited and shit.”  
  
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Sam says mildly.  
  
“Yeah but I’m...not used to it.” Bucky sighs. “I didn’t think it was gonna be like this.” He just wasn’t expecting to like it this much.


	3. Chapter 3

A few nights later Bucky’s leaning by the bar, waiting for Thor to get back when the man approaches. Approach is probably the wrong word, Bucky decides watching him. It’s more as if the man surveys the whole room in one single glance and then decides on Bucky. It’s a decidedly alarming feeling. He’s not sure he’s ever experienced anything like it.

The man, tall, black, extremely handsome, radiates energy and magnetism as he slides onto the seat next to Bucky.

“Good evening.” He has a low velvety accent that does things to the insides of Bucky’s thighs.

“Evening.” Bucky responds.

“I’ve not seen you here before.” The man remarks. “T’Challa.” He holds out his hand and Bucky takes it.

“Bucky.” He says. “First time.”

“Welcome to my club.” T’Challa’s smile is bright and vivid. “How are you enjoying it?”

“It’s awesome.” Bucky admits.

“Good.” T’Challa takes a sip of his drink. “Though the music can get a little loud. Perhaps you would like to accompany me to someplace quieter?”

It’s extremely smoothly done, but it’s still a line, one of the oldest lines in the book and part of Bucky is amused. And part of him is like _holy fuck_, this extremely attractive man is interested. And then the third and last part is the one that wins and speaks.

“That’s an incredibly tempting offer, but I’m with someone. “ Even as he says it, a little bolt of wonder hits him dead center in his chest. He’s here with _Thor_. Thor’s who’s worldly and handsome and charming and made Bucky come three times again last tonight, to the point where his legs still felt a little weak this morning as he was riding his bike back home to feed Stevie. He’s proud to be here with Thor, but it doesn’t mean he’s not incredibly flattered by T’Challa’s invitation.

“So?” T’Challa murmurs. He places a hand on Bucky’s thigh. High enough that if he merely dipped his hand to the right, he would be in full possession of Bucky’s jewels. “He doesn’t have to know.” His thumb strokes a small intimate circle of pressure upon Bucky’s thigh.

“Sorry,” Bucky says, “That’s not how I operate.”

It would be easy on some level to go with T’Challa. To tell Thor that he felt sick and left, make up some story. Or he could arrange to meet T’Challa later. It would be simple, probably the man would accept. But he can’t do it, not to himself, and not to Thor.

T’Challa sits back, his hand still lingering on Bucky’s thigh. “Really?” For the first time he simply sounds intrigued, truly made curious by Bucky, and not simply pursuing him.

“Really.” Bucky says firmly. God, the hand on his thigh feels really good.

“A pity on one hand,” T’Challa murmurs. “But on the other, I admire you very much.” He removes his hand and reaches for his drink. “To another time, perhaps.”

“Perhaps.” Bucky raises his bottle. That’s all he can offer, and it’s not even really an offer, they both know it. Still he has no regrets as he watches T’Challa disappear into the crowd.

“He certainly seemed interested into you.” Thor speaks from behind him. “What happened?”

Bucky looks over his shoulder at him. “Where the hell have you been?”

“One of the waiters spilled champagne all over my boots.” Thor explains. “They kept trying to dry them off and apologize.” He takes the seat abandoned by T’Challa. “Well?”

“He wanted to know if I wanted to go someplace quieter.” Bucky informs him.

“Ah. And what did you say?” Thor asks with genuine interest.

“I told him I was here with someone.” Bucky takes a sip of his beer.

Thor cocks his head, looking at him. “You turned down an invitation from a man as attractive as that because you came here with me?”

“Well, yeah.” Bucky says. He doesn’t know what he’s really doing here, but he’s not going to cheat on Thor, whatever they’re doing. That’s not the sort of man Bucky is.

“That’s…” Thor pauses. Then reaches for his hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going, we just got here?”

“I’m taking you home to bed.” Thor says matter of-factly, and Bucky’s cock tightens. He follows Thor to the exit where out of the corner of his eye he spots T’Challa standing in conversation with an attractive woman with an Afro. Bucky gives him a little wave as he goes out the door with Thor.

* * *

Thor drives with one hand on the wheel. The other is possessively stroking Bucky’s cock through his pants. “Unzip your pants.”

“Are you serious?” Bucky asks, but he already knows the answer to that. Of course Thor is serious. He unzips his pants and draws his cock out, feeling a little ridiculous. The night breeze dances along his arms as he watches Thor.

Thor simply slides his hand up to encircle Bucky’s dick, stroking him easily as he drives left handed.

"This is dangerous.” Bucky manages to get out before he moans.

“So?” Thor lifts his hand, making Bucky moan again at the abandonment, spitting on his palm and returning to Bucky once again.

Bucky’s gripping the car door with one hand, and the back of the car seat with the other, spreading his legs wide as Thor steadily strokes his dick. It’s unreal how hot it is to be doing this as they drive along Mulholland under the night sky.

By the time they finally drive through the gates and up the winding drive, Bucky’s dying to come. His hips are arching towards Thor’s fist off the seat, and now Thor pulls away, leaving him hard and desperate.

“Not yet.” Thor tells him, his voice a possessive growl that makes Bucky’s toes curl in his boots with anticipation.

He parks and turns the car off, turning to Bucky. “Take your pants off.”

“Right here?” Bucky asks again, even though he’s already reaching for the ties on his boots, barely unlacing them enough to shove them off his feet before he drag his jeans and underwear down his hips. He leaves them in a pile on the car floor and kneels on the seat, looking at Thor expectantly.

Thor slowly unzips his trousers and draws himself out. Bucky licks his lips at the sight of him. Every time he sees Thor’s cock he utters a small prayer though he’s not remotely religious. It is entirely a prayer of thanks to the deity who made men in all their wondrous and divine beautiful varieties, but in particular, Thor.

“Suck it.” Thor says, his voice that same dark growl that makes Bucky want to obey him, to do whatever the fuck he wants and gladly, and more.

He leans down and presses the head between his lips, uttering a quiet moan as he does.

“I thought that man who approached you was handsome.” Thor tells him, his hand stroking the back of Bucky’s neck as he sucks Thor’s dick. “I knew what he wanted, what anyone with half a brain would want when they look at you, and it was arousing to think of.” His hand slides down Bucky’s back, all the way to his bare ass, his long fingers stroking right above the cleft of Bucky's ass.

“I imagined him fucking you.” Thor murmurs, still stroking right there, even though Bucky’s aching to be touched all over but mostly he needs Thor inside him now. “How it would look to watch him make you come as he fills you with his cock.”

Bucky moans helplessly around Thor’s shaft. His ass trembles slightly, he squirms a little, his balls hot and heavy between his thighs. And then finally, oh finally at long last, Thor slips his fingertip down between his cheeks, to circle the rim of his hole.

“I bet he has a massive cock.” Thor says conversationally. “You can tell from the way he walks, the confidence in his stride. Do you think you would have been able to take it all?”

Bucky offers a little murmur, but the thought of it, of trying to take it, the shaft thrusting away inside him, himself filled to bursting, is too much. His cock throbs. Thor presses his fingertip against his hole, hot and eager. Bucky squirms against his touch, desperate for it. He tries to push back against Thor’s finger but there’s not enough friction.

“Do you want to come like this?” Thor asks lazily. “My cock in your mouth, only my fingertip inside you?”

Bucky raises his head, gazing at him, his mouth inches away from Thor’s dick. “I want you to fuck me.” He growls.

Thor smirks and reaches for him. He slides the seat back a fraction before patting his thigh. “Come on. Straddle me.”

“Hold your horses.” Bucky tells him, climbing over the gearshift. He settles on Thor’s lap, pressing against his dick. “mm.”

“No, lower yourself down on it.” Thor instructs. “Go on.” He leans back, spreading his arms wide along the back of the seats, watching Bucky intently.

Heat floods Bucky’s body as he raises himself slowly, and then even more slowly, lowers himself onto Thor’s dick. The slight resistance, the first pop of the head slipping inside him, the full, steady thrust of Thor easing all the way inside him, make Bucky groan with pleasure. It's rough, but it's exactly what he needs.

“Ride my cock.” Thor tells him.

So Bucky balances himself, holding on to the side of the car door and the dash as he fucks himself steadily on Thor’s dick.

Thor watches him in complete silence at first. Only the steady sound of Bucky’s ragged breathing, and the slap and thrust of their flesh together. And then he raises one hand, almost idly, to slide up under Bucky’s t-shirt to tweak his left nipple.

Bucky groans again as Thor’s nail caresses the pert nub, aroused and ready. Thor does it again, studying his face. “You look divine.” He whispers.

Then he leans forward, pulling Bucky’s shirt all the way up so he can mouth at his nipples, kissing his chest more and more hungrily. Bucky’s balls tighten, his cock is throbbing between them, his thighs are slippery with sweat. He aches but all he can think of is how much he wants this, how every single one of Thor’s touches simply drive him wilder and wilder.

Thor grazes his nipple with his teeth and Bucky nearly screams. As he does it to the other one as well, Thor reaches down and takes Bucky in hand. He jerks him off quickly, almost too quickly, and Bucky comes almost immediately spilling across the warmth of Thor’s palm.

He sinks back against the steering wheel, panting with exhaustion. Thor’s still hard inside him. Bucky squirms as Thor reminds him of this fact with another long delicious thrust.

“Come on.” Thor nudges him.

“What?” Bucky moans. He can’t walk, he can barely move, but somehow he crawls off Thor’s dick and stumbles out of the car. “What the fuck?’

“Bend over the trunk.” Thor tells him and Bucky just stares at him.

‘You seriously want to finish fucking me over the trunk of your car right here in your driveway?” The whole of LA is laid out below them.

“Yes.” Thor grins at him, sliding his fist over his dick, still impressively hard, “that’s exactly what I want.”

Bucky just fucking bites his lip and bends over the trunk of the car. He feels ridiculous, he feels utterly exposed and turned on even though his own dick is too spent to do anything again.

“Spread your legs.” Thor tells him. “Wider.”

Bucky does, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.

“Put your hands behind you and spread your cheeks.” Thor commands and Bucky stifles a little moan as he does. He’s blushing all the way down to his ass, he just knows it. He’s thankful for the darkness as he stands there, fingers digging into his skin as he waits for Thor’s cock.

What he gets instead is the sharp, hot heat of Thor’s tongue licking over his hole.

“Holy fuck.” Bucky nearly crumples in a heap as Thor licks him again.

“Stay still.” Thor growls and Bucky does his best to obey, but his dick is pressed against the car as against all reason he’s growing aroused again.

Thor licks all the way around his rim before pressing the tip inside Bucky, and then further. Every curl and twist of his tongue sends Bucky into a paroxysm of delight and overwhelming pleasure. Waves of it wash over him, hot and cold and dying from ecstasy until he’s shuddering all over, helpless with the force of it. As he comes a second time, trembling against the car as he does, Thor rises, and thrusts back inside him. This time Bucky does scream. It only takes Thor only a handful of deep violent thrusts before he comes inside Bucky and then he leans against his back, panting, his breath warm on Bucky’s skin.

* * *

T'Challa is sipping a smooth dark whiskey when Loki saunters into the club and takes the seat beside him on the balcony.

"Well, that was disappointing."

T'Challa shrugs. "Sometimes a man turns out to be a man of integrity. So it goes." He takes another sip of his drink, already clearly bored with the situation.

"He's a whore, just like the rest of them." Loki downs his vodka and nods to the bartender for another. He'd expected Bucky to be flat on his back with his legs spread, full of T'Challa's dick by now. Instead he has to deal with this situation further. The thought fills him with distaste. He wants nothing to do with it.

T'Challa gives him a look.

"What?" Loki says and downs his second drink.

"I think jealousy ill becomes you." T'Challa says quietly, but steely. "And that I did that, as the favor that was owed, but now it is paid and you should take your leave."

"Is it really paid if you did nothing?" Loki sneers.

"The deal was not that it mattered if I fucked him or not." T'Challa says coolly. "But that I approached him and made the offer. The rest was up to him. And he chose. It is done." He rises, looming over Loki for a moment before he nods to him and walks away.

Personally T’Challa is glad the debt is done with. He will not be so foolish as to let himself owe a favor to Loki a second time. And he’s pleased with the man, whoever he was, and his choice, in spite of how attractive he found him. It would not have been a hardship to sleep with him, but T’Challa prefers these matters to happen under different circumstances.

* * *

Loki has a third and final drink to show that he's not intimidated by T'Challa and then he leaves because he's wise enough not to outstay his welcome.

When he gets home to his penthouse he fixes a drink, and does a line of coke and goes to the flickering tv screen that shows Thor's home. He rewinds idly and then he freezes.

They hadn't even made it inside the house before they started. Loki's fingers grip the glass hard, so hard that it almost shatters. He leaves the frozen picture of Thor's bare ass pounding away into the slim brunette figure bent over the trunk of his car and goes out to the balcony. His heart is racing erratically. The unsteady rhythm undoes him. He needs things to be calm.

He'd expected Thor to be humiliated. He'd expected Bucky to be dumped back in the gutter where he belongs. He'd not expected this disgusting display of raw lust right out there in the open.

He needs to get off, but a simple masturbatory fantasy will not suffice tonight. No, he needs something more. He decides abruptly and reaches for his telephone.

"Hello, may I speak to Lorraine, please." He waits, his gaze flickering back to the screen. He hates the sight of it, even as it turns him on. He hates Thor even as he turns him on. He simply loathes Bucky full stop.

"Hello?"

"It's Loki." He says. "Are you free tonight?"

Loki doesn't fuck women. but every once in a while he allows one specific woman to fuck him. Only on nights like this.

* * *

Bucky still doesn't usually stay the night. He has his reasons and Thor never pushes. It's enough that every once in a while Bucky does stay. When he’s too tired and frankly fucked out to ride his motorcycle home, he sleeps beside Thor in his massive bed.

And usually it’s fine. But tonight Bucky bolts wide awake, chest heaving, his heart running a hundred miles a minute like he’s back there in that godawful cell, with the distant sound of the wind in the trees, and the painful noises of the dying all around him.

He’s not even aware of Thor at first, or the harsh dry panting sounds that, slowly he realizes, are coming from his own mouth.

“Bucky.”

Someone’s saying his name. Someone is there. Dimly Bucky struggles through the haze surrounding him, and focuses on the voice.

“Bucky.” Thor says again. He touched Bucky gently on the arm and Bucky flinches. Thor immediately draws it back.

“I…” Even to his own ears, Bucky’s voice sounds dry and distant. “just need a minute.”

Thor nods, and then, to Bucky’s relief, he gets up and goes into the bathroom. In the dark, alone, Bucky can breathe again and finally, the dream fades back into the void of his memories. He sits up, rubbing his hands hard against his eyes.

“Here.”

Bucky looks up to see Thor holding out a glass of water. Bucky takes it gratefully and drinks it down. Thor sits on his side of the bed and then simply stretches out again.

Bucky finishes the water and then sets the glass down on the floor. He looks at Thor, a large, pale shape in the darkness.

“I can go.”

“Not unless you’d prefer to.”

Bucky shrugs. In truth the thought of getting up and getting dressed sounds exhausting. He just wants to curl up in a heap and go back to sleep.

He lies back down, resting his hand on his chest, trying to gauge his breathing.

"Was that a nightmare...or a panic attack?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Bucky starts to push himself up again, and Thor simply reaches out his hand, resting it gently on Bucky's wrist.

"It's all right. You don't have to talk about it."

Bucky gives him a wary look. How can he not push for more, considering everything... but Thor's simply looking back at him, all reassurance and openness.

Bucky exhales. "Okay." He settles back down against the pillows and Thor reaches for him, drawing him into the curve of his arm. He doesn't speak, just strokes his fingertips along Bucky's arm, lazy light motions. It feels good and Bucky lets himself drift.

"I guess you can tell why I don't always spend the night." He says finally.

"I assumed it was because of your cat." Thor glances at him. "You really weren't staying over because of this?"

Bucky shrugs. "They don't happen that often. Just enough." he hesitates. "Enough that it’s irritating." Irritating is one way to describe it, but it’s all he has for now.

Thor just keeps stroking his skin. "I don't mind."

It seems impossible that he doesn't mind. This is only one night, but for now Bucky lets himself believe it. Part of him wants to explain, to talk about how he knows this is frustrating and that Thor doesn’t have to deal with this. But tonight he’s too tired so Bucky just lets himself lie there until both he and Thor finally drift back to sleep.

* * *

Loki licks at his teeth, still pacing. He doesn’t want to think about Thor, he never wants to think about Thor. He doesn’t want to think about anything other than Thor. There’s a curiously monotonous pattern to his obsession and he’s tired of the thoughts spinning round and round in his head. He needs to not think for a few hours. That’s all. Loki rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. Is that so much to ask for?

There’s a discrete knock at his door and he goes to open it.

She stands there in a trench coat, hair falling loose and golden over her shoulders. He both loathes and loves that her hair reminds him of Thor. It played no small part in his selection, but it’s her discretion and her particular abilities that really made him choose her.

“Did you put it on?” She says, without greeting him.

“Yes.”

“Good.” She sets down her small black case and starts unbuttoning her coat. “Take your clothes off.”

Loki starts quickly unbuttoning until he stands there nude and pale in front of her. His long slender cock is hard and ready, held in place by the exquisite silver cock ring encircling it.

She makes a small sound of pleasure at the sight. “Good.” her fingers stroke his length. “Now, go into the other room, and position yourself over the glass table.”

Loki starts towards the doorway and she halts him with one word.

“Crawl.”

The heat floods his cheeks but Loki obeys and drops to all fours, crawling into the other room. There he stretches out along the length of the glass coffee table so that his ass hangs slightly off the end. His cock presses into the cool glass. There he waits.

Lorraine enters the room. She’s dressed in a simple, elegant black dress, her loose hair has fallen back over her shoulders. She might have been attending a dinner party were it not for the items that she held. In one hand she holds a pair of handcuffs, in the other she holds a riding crop.

She walks over to the head of the table and stands there in front of Loki. If he lifts his head, he would be right in front of her cunt.

Loki licks his lips and waits.

“Stretch out your wrists about your head.” She commands and he does.

She cuffs them gently. “Now leave them there.” She walks the length of the table, stroking down his spine with the riding crop making Loki shiver. His buttocks tighten in anticipation.

“You look so pretty like this.” Lorraine says conversationally. “But you know how you would look prettier?”

Loki murmurs something underneath his breath.

“What was that?” She moves closer, placing the tip of the crop underneath his chin, forcing his head up to face her.

“I said, if you peg me.”

“You’re correct.” She drawls. “But presumptuous. Your tongue displeases me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry, mistress.”

“Good.” She says “But you will have to do better.”

She goes to the small case she brought with her and opens it. Loki watches her out of the corner of his eye. She takes out the leather gag. He licks his lips in anticipation. Loki hates and loves the gag as well. It’s discomfiting, it’s tortuous not to be able to speak, not even to beg, but his arousal also spikes as she fastens it around his mouth. There’re small metal pincers that fit to the leather, across his jaw. He breathes hoarsely through his nose as she fastens it at the back of his head.

“There.” she says. “That’s better.”

Next she takes out the plump black plug that Loki truly loathes because he hates how it looks sticking out of his ass (She placed him in front of a mirror once while she played with him and he's never forgotten it) and slicks it.

“Open up.” She commands and he spreads his legs wide, flexing his buttocks. She sinks the plug in deep, and Loki grimaces, grunting behind his gag, straining as it stretches him to fullness. Lorraine looks at him thoughtfully. “Almost.” She murmurs to herself.

Next she produces the silver chain and two leather ties. She attaches the chain to Loki’s cuffed wrists and draws the chain down to the floor. She runs the chain under the table to between his legs. Then she ties each slender ankle to a leg of the coffee table with the leather ties. Attaching the chain to the leather ties, she finally steps back. The tableau presents Loki at an awkward angle, spread and restrained and displayed, ass pertly jutted into the air, his cock still pressed against the glass.

“There. Much better.” She gives the plug a little tweak and Loki shudders.

Lorraine simply smiles at him.

“I thought about you this week.” She takes out a slim cigarette case and places a cigarette to her lips, reaching for a lighter. “I bought a new strap-on, and instantly knew whose hole would fit it best.”

Loki clenches around the plug at her words.

“It’s one of a brand-new series.” She murmurs, her eyes dancing, blowing a smoke ring through the air. “They’re based on famous cocks. Musicians, actors, politicians, you know the sort."

There’s a sinking feeling in Loki’s chest. He doesn’t like where this is going. He has a feeling he knows exactly where this is going.

“I wonder, can you guess, whose cock I purchased to fuck you with?” She whispers.

He squirms silently. She reaches for the riding crop again, moving it between his legs. She drags it over his balls, making him mutter and squirm.

“Shall I whip your balls?” She asks idly. “Push your ass in the air if you would rather I do something else.”

Loki grunts as he pushes his ass up desperately.

“What a sweetly fuckable ass.” She says. “Too bad.” She slaps the riding crop again against his balls, and Loki screams behind the gag.

It echoes silently and she does it again before moving to stand besides the table, smacking him firmly across the buttocks next. She sets up a firm rhythm, Loki’s cock bumping, pressing tightly against the glass.

Lorraine whips him until his cheeks are nice and reddened and then finally, she sets the crop aside, sweeping a hand through her hair. “Mmm, you’ve made me break a sweat.”

She fixes herself a gin and tonic before she sits cross-legged, in the chair across the room, smoking and sipping her drink as she surveys his apartment.

The waiting, agonizing, and delectable and silent, is half the pleasure. Loki burns with lust and need as he lies there, stretched out, plugged and restrained and gagged. Fully on display, for her pleasure and hers alone.

Lorraine finishes her drink and rises. “Have you guessed? Put that clever brain of yours to work?” She walks over to the case. “Do you know whose cock it is?”

Loki closes his eyes.

There’s a sharp slap across his cheek and his eyes snap open. She stands in front of him, holding up the harness. Even without looking at it, his heart sinking even further as his cock throbs, he knows who it belongs to.

“This.” Lorraine says, as she unzips her dress and lets it slink to the floor. Now dressed in her exquisite delicate, emerald lingerie, holding the large cock of Thor Odinson.

God help him, Loki’s whole body throbs and hums, his buttocks squeezing the plug even tighter inside him, his hips arching, his own cock dripping against the table, balls tightening.

She fastens the harness around her hips and slicks it.

“Usually I would make you suck it, to get it wet enough to fuck you, but you haven’t earned that yet.” She tells him.

She moves to the end of the table, standing between his bound ankles. Her hands are cool and inspecting, squeezing his ass, and then she draws out the plug. Loki’s hole pulses, embarrassingly empty; he squirms upon the table desperately.

“Shhh.” She strokes his flank, her nails running over his arched, reddened buttocks, making Loki hiss behind the gag.

“You always look so pleasing like this.” Lorraine murmurs.

Knowing she’s standing there between his spread and bound legs with his aching, empty, reddened hungry hole, Loki can only flush, hunching his shoulders.

The tip of the large cockhead pressed into him and then she sinks all the way in, making his chest grunt and strain.

“There.”

Loki gasps. The long curved length of the cock fills him utterly. He feels impaled. Though he’d like to think he doesn’t recall exactly how Thor feels inside him, but it’s a lie. He could be blindfolded and waiting in a room to be fucked, and he would know Thor’s cock anywhere.

It’s embarrassingly arousing, terribly evocative. He can only lie there, nipples taut and cock throbbing, being fucked by his brother’s massive cock.

Loki closes his eyes. _He’s there sprawled across a bed with Thor pounding away inside him, sweating atop him._

Lorraine gasps as she fucks him, her nails digging into his hips.

_Thor grabbing his hair and pulling it back. “You belong to me, you have always belonged to me,” Making him sob and beg and come._

Loki sobs behind the gag even as he comes, spilling in a puddle beneath him.

Lorraine continues fucking him, her nails biting into his abused ass cheeks until Loki wants to scream. She comes at last with a gasp, and finally pulls out.

Loki exhales, and then he freezes as he feels the tip of her finger, running curiously around his spread hole.

“You might need this.” She says. “So I planned ahead.”

Loki bites back a sob as she inserts another plug, ribbed and slicked. It’s too thick. He’s too full. It settles unpleasantly inside him, and he’s trapped.

Lorraine strolls around in front of him and draws a chair over to sit in front of him.

“Now.” She says calmly. “Use that mouth for something useful.”

She unclips the gag, freeing his mouth. He sniffs the air, the proximity to her cunt smells of desire. Loki leans forward, pressing his mouth into her pubic hair as his tongue seeks her slit, working hungrily. He makes her gasp before she comes over his face, her juices trickling down his chin.

Loki licks his lips, feeling a trifle smug.

He should have known she would have her revenge.

She leaves him there all night, ass still plugged, cock still leaking away, trapped, as she goes to shower and sleep peacefully in his bed between fresh clean sheets.

In the early morning Loki wakes by the plug being withdrawn.

The cock, Thor’s cock, slides inside him once more. She fucks him to a slow, agonizing orgasm this time, then leaves him there sobbing and aching by the time he comes.

Lorraine watches him a moment and then finally undoes the handcuffs and ties.

Loki slides off the table, slipping to his knees, falling upon the carpet. Lorraine presses a hand to his head, caressing his hair, for a moment before she withdraws into the kitchen.

He lies there in a heap, stinking of sweat and come a while longer, before he finally drags himself upright to go and shower.

The cock ring lies abandoned on the bathroom sink. Loki closes his eyes and pretends he’s never thought of Thor at all.

* * *

In the morning Bucky slips out before Thor’s awake again. He’s not ready to talk about last night yet. Instead he goes home and curls up on his own bed with Stevie for another hour or so. The small purring body next to him calms him more than anything else.

He wakes up around noon to a beeping answer machine. He hits play while he starts to make coffee.

“I assume you’re just sleeping off another fuckparty, but if you feel like dragging your ass into work, uh remember that we do actually have to work for a living, unlike your boyfriend.”

Bucky throws the machine the finger as he steps into the shower.

By the time he’s at the shop, it’s past one and Sam is knee deep in the body of an old Corolla, while Nebula is walking a customer through getting new tires.

Bucky slinks into the shop and looks at the worksheet before tossing his jacket on the chair and getting to work.

* * *

He doesn’t get a chance to talk to Sam till it’s closing time.

Sam nods goodbye to Nebula who heads off on her bike, and then turns to Bucky. “Gonna tell me what that was about? I assume you were just too busy-“

“I had a panic attack at Thor’s last night.” Bucky says without preamble.

Understanding lights Sam’s eyes immediately. “Shit.” He says. “How bad?”

Bucky shrugs. “Not great, but it wasn’t the worst.” He wipes his hands on the rag, pretending he’s cleaning grease off, “I stayed the rest of the night.”

“That’s good, man!” Sam exclaims. “That’s real good.”

Bucky offers a tentative smile. “You think?”

“Yeah.” Sam says firmly. “I do.” He goes to the cooler and gets a beer for each of them and brings it over.

Bucky takes a sip and just sighs. “You don’t think I’m making a mistake?”

“I can’t tell you that, man.” Sam shrugs. “but I do think Thor is good for you.” He waits half a beat. “He sure looks good in those jeans.”

Bucky just grins.

* * *

The following morning Thor gets up before the sun and drives down to the beach. He’s not a runner, but he knows where they go and sometimes he still goes out there. particularly when he wants to talk to someone. After the other night with Bucky he’s been thinking, and usually when he’s been thinking too much, there’s only one person he can really talk to.

Heimdall is easy to pick out, jogging along the sand.

Thor’s known him for over a decade, friend, confidant and lawyer, all rolled into one. There are times he doesn’t want to talk to Heimdall, because Heimdall knows all the shit he’s done, all the things he’s been through. Heimdall’s seen it all. Nothing is new to him. Thor can’t shock him anymore. He hopes, in a way, that makes things easier for the other man. All the worse case scenarios have already happened.

Thor offers him a wave as Heimdall nears him and Heimdall returns it. He finishes his lap and then jogs over to where Thor is leaning against the car.

“What brings you out this early in the morning?”

“I can’t bring an old friend a cup of coffee just because I want to?” Thor offers the coffee.

Heimdall takes it. “Not without being suspicious, nope.” He blows on it before taking a sip. “So what is it this time?”

“I met someone.” Thor hadn’t even been certain he was going to say anything about Bucky, or what, before he got here, but now that he’s here, he knows that’s exactly why he came.

“Right.” Heimdall pinches the bridge of his nose. “So what’s the situation? Are they amenable to signing an NDA?”

“It’s nothing like that.” Thor says patiently. It’s not Heimdall’s fault that those are often needed. “I just …met someone.”

Heimdall pauses and looks at him, really looks at him. “What are you saying?”

Thor rests his hands on top of his head, fingers interlocked, looking out at the ocean. “I’m saying…I met someone that I want to be in a relationship with. Someone that I care about.”

“Whoa.” Heimdall says very quietly under his breath.

“Yeah.” Thor says, grinning at him.

“So tell me about him?”

“What makes you so sure it’s him?”

“Cause if you were getting into it again with a woman and it wasn’t Jane, I’d kick your ass.” Heimdall says in all seriousness. “And also she’d have called me first.”

“Yeah, I know.” Thor says. “Me too.” Janes’s the only woman he’s ever really cared for, and even though he’s been more into men the last few years, he still cares for her deeply, and he still finds her attractive as hell.

“So?” Heimdall prods again. “Tell me about him.”

“His name is Bucky and when he smile’s it’s like dawn breaking over the ocean.”

“Fucking hell.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

Thor calls Bucky later. “When can I see you again?”

“Sure you want to?” Bucky’s aiming for teasing, but the words come out more melancholy than anything else. He wishes he could take them back.

“Of course I do.” Thor pauses. “Are you at home?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your address?”

Bucky hesitates and then tells him.

By the time Thor shows up at his door, he’s antsy and eager and hard. He opens the door and pulls Thor inside, slamming the door shut and pushing Thor up against the wall.

“It’s only been a day, barely.” Thor reminds him as Bucky reaches for his zipper.

“Shut up.” Bucky tells him, shoving his hand down Thor’s hands. “I want you to fuck me.”

“As you wish.” Thor kisses him.

They fall asleep afterwards in Bucky’s much smaller bed, tangled in each other’s limbs, a small wary cat watching from the windowsill.

* * *

They spend the next morning in bed together, lazily fooling around. Bucky keeps making noises about making coffee, but not actually getting up to do it when Thor speaks.

"I want us to be together."

Bucky looks at him. It's on the tip of his tongue to say, 'We're already together,' but he knows what Thor means. It's only stalling to ask that, and Bucky's not sure he even wants to stall.

He sits up in bed and looks at Thor, really looks at him. This giant of a man, who a million people would kill to be in bed with, and who apparently wants to be with Bucky. Panic attacks and all.

There are questions he could ask, things he could say...but all that really matters is whether they want to be together? And Bucky likes being with Thor. Thor adds adventure to his life. Obviously it's been exciting dating someone who owns jets and cool cars, for whom money is no object and it never matters what the tab is. But all that could boil down to Thor being a massive entitled asshole. And he's not.

So Bucky slides a leg over Thor, straddling his groin. "Okay."

"Okay." Thor repeats incredulously. "Is that a yes?"

"I'm not marrying you." Bucky says.

"I'm not asking you to marry me." Thor grins at him. He sits up, settling Bucky more comfortably in his lap, letting his dick slide between Bucky's cheeks. "I'm asking you to be with me. If you would like that. If you want me."

There's something about the way he says it that tugs at Bucky's heart. "Yes, I want that. I want you." He clasps Thor's face with both hands and kisses him.

* * *

That evening Thor pours himself a whiskey and goes out onto the upper balcony of his home. The city is as brightly lit as ever and tonight, for the first time in a long time, he finds it bright with possibility as well. The relationship with Bucky...unexpected, unlooked for, unplanned, but not unwanted. He can't say that because now that he has Bucky, Thor wants him very much indeed. He's happy now, or happier. He'll settle for happier than before. 

He takes a sip, letting the whiskey float back on his tongue. If he looks back at the sleeping figure in bed beside him, he could pretend that the dark head there belongs to another man altogether. There have been moments where Thor's been tempted to pretend, but that's unfair, to both himself, and to Bucky. And, to Loki, wherever he is.

_Loki._

Will the name never not send a pang through Thor's chest? Does he even want that? He can't imagine a world where he doesn't agonize over the loss of his brother. He dreams of another world where the past never happened, where things are different, where he and Loki...

That first night, that weekend spent together, both of those times are burned forever into his memory, separated by years but alike in passion and heartbreak. The first time Thor could have written off as a foolish youthful mistake, easily dismissed from memory and never talked about. But the second time...the second time is what haunts him more. The thing that halted him after the accident, if he’s truthful. The thing that's kept him looking back all these years..

Thor sighs. He's weary of all of this. The memories. The voice that whispers in his mind, in his dreams, in his darkest hours. He wishes things were different, but even if Loki were here...would he even want them to be?

At the heart of it, that's the question that haunts Thor the most. Does Loki long for him as he does for Loki? Or has his brother forgotten him entirely, moved on with his life and left Thor in the past where he belongs?

* * *

Across the wide expanse of the city of Los Angeles, in his penthouse apartment, Loki lies wide awake in his voluminous bed, body barely covered by his silken sheets. He sleeps nude these days. There is no one to object or be enticed by it. He is entirely free of personal entanglements.

There is something in the air tonight. Something different. The night tingles with unspent electricity. He thinks, as Loki as often thinks when he’s in bed unable to sleep, of Thor. The pleasure from his session with Lorraine the previous night has faded and a nagging irritation has taken its place.

The last few reports have been all similar to the first one. The brunette man has spent more and more time in Thor’s company. He’s not a hooker, as Loki first assumed. He works as a car mechanic, and moonlights as a cage-fighter, which is where he and Thor first met.

And now…Loki’s fingers clench the sheets. Now the man is spending most of his nights in Thor’s bed.

At last he sighs and gives up any pretense of sleep. Sliding lithely from the bed he walks through the silent apartment to the sidebar in the living room where he pours himself a vodka and soda. He drinks it slowly as he returns to his bedroom, gazing out at the view.

Loki reaches for his phone and makes the call.

“I want a full detail on the mansion.” He says shortly. “The whole works.” He knows this is a line, but there’s nothing to stop him from crossing it. Not the slightest reason in the world. All these years when he's only had one camera on the outside of Thor's house, who knows what he's been missing. 

“I want Barnes to have a shadow too.” He hangs up before he can hear Hela’s laughter. She thinks he’s obsessed. He doesn’t care what she thinks.

Loki stands at the window, his nude outline perfectly framed in the glass. He takes a sip of his drink, and thinks, as he has every night for the last sixteen years, of Thor.


End file.
